Hope For The Heartless
by lawson bottom girl
Summary: The Horned King is released from the Cauldron & mysteriously brought back to Prydain. Not even he knows why, except that the Fates have given him an impossible task he must complete before his time is up, or his soul will be sent back to the Cauldron. For all Eternity. For a short time, he controls his own Fate. Will he spend it wisely, or give in & revert back to his old ways?
1. Chapter 1

**I honestly don't really know what to put here, except that I don't own any of Disney's characters, probably never will, the only thing I own is this story and my OC's. This is the first fanfiction. . .make that story in general. . .I've ever written. I decided to go with a movie that didn't have much popularity, that way if the story was really bad I wouldn't completely slaughter the universe XD. Disney about butchered this one anyway so I don't have to do nothin' lol! The Horned King is one of my favorite villains anyway so yeah. . .I love his design a LOT. That's the only thing Disney rocked at with this thing XD.**

**But enough of my ranting/fangirling. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it;) Please feel free to review:)**

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Chapter 1

Taran fell to the stone floor as the force of the Cauldron tugged against him from all the way across the room. It ruffled his clothes and hair in almost a teasing way, reeking of Death, as it whispered in his ear.

"Come boy," it whispered. "Join me. . ."

The boy felt himself go cold and clammy as a dead frog. Terrified, he weakly tried to grab the large ring above his head that was bolted into one of the massive stone pillars that held up the ceiling. The air whistled in his ears as he made another grab for the ring, the little voice no longer sounding teasing.

"Co...ome...j...join meee..." It hissed.

Taran shivered as he finally caught the ring in his grip and pulled himself to his feet. The wind nearly yanked his legs out from under him as he held on for all he was worth. He had thought not three minutes ago that the Horned King was the most evil creature in the entire world, but now he changed his mind. The Horned King might have been a royal adviser compared to this voice in the wind of the Cauldron. If the Horned King was the epitome of evil, then this was a thousand times worse. Nothing could compare.

"Come," it hissed in his ear, "Join. . . .Meeeee."

Taran flinched when his body banged hard against against the pillar as the Cauldron continued to inhale anything that was not nailed down.

_'Thank goodness Eilonwy and Fflewddur made it out in time,'_ he thought.

The boy was so busy hanging onto the ring for his life, he didn't notice the being approaching in the hall to his right, holding another in its tight grip. . .

"No, Sire, please, no!" The little green goblin begged, nearly sobbing, as he struggled in his master's grip of steel.

"Have Mercy!" He choked as his airway was nearly held shut by the hand around his throat.

His master wasn't listening.

"Get up!" His master shouted at the pile of skeletons lying against the walls and on the floor all around them. He kicked one up to his hand with surprising speed and shook it by its collar with enough force to break a living man's neck.

"Come alive!"

If one was listening, perhaps they would have caught desperation, denial, and maybe pain in the undead being's voice. But no one was, and the armored skeleton only seemed to grin mockingly at the one who spoke, its blank eye sockets gazing at him from under its steel helmet in perhaps a silent laugh, as its bones and armor clanked lifelessly together.

"Maybe they all be a restin', Sire," the little goblin said nervously as he tugged on his master's robe. Suddenly grabbing the head of one skeleton warrior that happened to be lying right below him, he shook it and shouted in its face,

"DO SOMETHING! My LIFE is at STAKE!"

But he got the same treatment from the skeleton as his master had.

The goblin's statement snapped the last bit of composure his master possessed.

"Get Up You Fools!" His master snarled as he threw the skeleton he was still holding to the floor, "KILL!"

Suddenly, the undead being's eyes lit up a bright, deathly blood red in their normally black sockets in pure, undiluted rage, and the little goblin stifled a yelp of fear. When his master was _this_ angry, someone's head was going to roll, and usually it was the head of the person closest to him. . .which in this case was Creeper, the goblin.

_'Do something, do something!' _He thought in terror, and his eyes frantically lit on the Pig-Boy directly across from them in the room the Cauldron had been placed, gripping a ring bolted to the wall as the Cauldron's wind tugged on him relentlessly.

"Look!" Creeper shouted in complete panic as his master lifted him to eye level, his red eyes burning like flames, "Sire, Look!"

He pointed frantically in the boy's direction.

"The Pig-Boy! Its his fault! HE's the cause of it!"

Creeper shook his arm in the boy's direction desperately, and his master gave him a slitted, sidelong glance of fury before abruptly dropping him to the hard stone floor, forgotten. All his attention was on the boy now.

Taran looked up to his right as a shadow fell over him. . .and stared straight up into the skeletal face and flaming, raging eyes of the Horned King.

"You've interfered for the last time," the lich seethed, as he raised his hands toward Taran as a snake might move into position to strike, his long-clawed fingers splaying open.

Creeper, in crazed relief that it wouldn't be _him_ that died today by his master's hand, shrieked in glee from the far wall.

"Go for his throat, Sire!" He cackled as he jumped up and down like a heint.

"Now, Pig-Keeper," the Horned King snarled, all of his terrible teeth and fangs bared in his gaunt face like a rabid wolf, "You, Shall, Die!"

Taran stared in total horror for a moment, before pulling his brows down in determination. He tried to pull his legs up in under him so he could get away, but the Cauldron's pulling power had increased so much he couldn't do much more than flap in the wind. The Horned King, despite being undead and very zombie-like, struck with the speed of a viper at Taran's throat. Taran turned his head as the Horned King lunged, so his attacker got his chin, jawline and cheekbones instead.

"No!" Taran cried, muffled, as he struggled against the lich. As the Horned King lifted him him off the ground, Taran found some momentum to fold his legs up and kick the Horned King in the stomach, causing him to stumble backward and lose his hold on the boy. The Horned King loosed a sound more of surprise than pain as he was pushed backward by Taran, then forward as the Cauldron's wind began to sweep him past the boy and drag him across the room.

"What is this?" The lich snarled as he dug his claws into the very pillar Taran was gripping, his nails screeching something unearthly as they scraped across the stone, trying to hold him in place, but he couldn't find a grip. He pushed against the wind with all his might, his flaming eyes fixed on the Pig-Boy just out of arm's reach. The little whelp looked back at him with wide eyes before grabbing the stone pillar in an attempt to get away.

"No, you'll not escape!"

The Horned King declared as he grabbed the back of the boy's shirt, the only thing he could reach. He pulled the Pig-Keeper roughly to him, causing the boy to lose his grip on the ring he had clung to for so long. Lifting him clean off the ground as the wind screamed around them both, the Horned King snarled in the boy's terrified face. In this dim lighting he looked absolutely demonic as he pulled his arm back and threw the boy with unreal strength across the room to land at the foot of the little platform the Black Cauldron stood upon.

"YOU can satisfy the Cauldron's Hunger!"

Looking up, the Horned King realized that in the battle the wind had pulled him halfway across the room towards the thing of which he spoke, so he turned, fighting the roaring wind, and started to plow his way back to the hall he had entered by, his robes and fur stole flapping in the wind as he bowed his head against the screaming, invisible mass.

Taran had been stunned when he hit the hard floor, but as he regained movement in his limbs he gripped the deep grooves in the stone floor as tight as he could to avoid letting the wind pull him up the steps into the Cauldron, narrowing his eyes against the unearthly gale.

The Horned King could not make it back to the hall. He couldn't even make it to the pillar and the ring, which was clanking against the stone as the wind battered it, taunting him. The wind was _much_ stronger now than it had been only a few moments ago, and for every step he took, he slipped back three.

Slowly, as if enjoying his new toy, the wind began to drag the Horned King back across the room towards the Cauldron.

"No! You'll not have me!"

He cried as he struggled defiantly.

"My POWER cannot die!"

As the Horned King was pulled nearer the Cauldron, the side lit up with an evil red light, and he could see the face of the very man this Cauldron had been made for to entrap in the first place. It filled him with a terror he had never known in his entire, evil life. He was so close to the Cauldron now his fur stole was brushing the mouth of it.

"Curse YOU!"

He screamed as his red eyes widened in horror and realization of what was about to happen.

Slowly, yet never stopping, the wind pulled him up against the mouth of the Cauldron. His clothes began to shred and rip from the force of it. In one final, futile attempt to win, the Horned King gripped the mouth of the Cauldron to keep himself away, but it was fruitless.

Taran watched in wide-eyed horror as the Horned King's flesh began to come away from his form. The Horned King let out the longest, most wrenching, anguished, ear-shattering, unworldly scream Taran had ever heard in his life as, right before the boy's eyes, the lich's body was torn to pieces. The Horned King skeleton jerked and shook in spasms as the fire from the Cauldron consumed it in one fell swoop. Then, with a burst of fire and green mist, darkness consumed everything.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Black Cauldron and all its characters belong to Lloyd Alexander and Disney, me-sah only own me OC and da story, mon! XD**

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Chapter 2

The young girl awoke with a sharp gasp, her body jerking once as her eyes flew open wide in fear to stare at the empty blackness that was her ceiling.

She sat up quickly, throwing off the blanket, looking round her room in panic for the thing that had terrified her so, before she took a deep a breath, feeling much more at ease knowing she wasn't inside the Horned King's castle as she had been a few moments ago in her dream.

It had been so real, as nightmares so often are, she could instantly recall every tiny, horrid detail.

A beam of cool, white light shone through her window as the near-full moon came out from behind a thick, white cloud to send its ethereal light onto the world below.

Realizing she was still shaking, the girl climbed a bit unsteadily out of bed, grabbing her night robe off the bedpost as she opened the door. Barefooted, she stepped out onto her little balcony to stand in the moonlight, hoping it would help to chase away the dark shreds of her nightmare that still clung to her like thick, sticky cobwebs.

She could still hear the Horned King's long, drawn-out scream of pure, tortured agony ringing in her ears as he was, literally, ripped to pieces as he died, dragged into the very thing he had so fervently sought, for only the stars knew how long, to possess and control.

The girl shivered violently again, letting the soft light soothe her mind somewhat, and tried to calm herself down.

As her breathing returned to normal, her mind began to slowly function again as she gazed at the moon's pale face, its surface reflected in her eyes. When she had been younger, her mother had told her stories about the Man in the Moon.

The way her mother told it, there had been a man, in the time of the Settling War for Prydain, who was kind, brave, very intelligent, and so handsome the stars themselves were impressed. The stars, who had seen so many mortals come and go, come and go over the countless millennia, favored him. The only thing that concerned them was that this brave, handsome man had been born under one of their more unlucky brethren.

An unlucky star.

And unlucky stars were always hateful things that take pleasure in harming the ones that were born under them. The other stars prepared a course of action in the event anything should happen to this chivalrous man among men.

In one of the first battles of Prydain's first war against its foes from across the sea, the young man was wounded very badly when saving a comrade in combat. He was not expected to live.

The stars knew what they had to do, and to save his life they had no choice but to make him immortal and place him on a large, black rock they called Moon, as a mortal that has been healed by a celestial force such as the stars can never return to the Earth, as touching earthly things are terribly painful, including walking.

As the young man became immortal he graciously thanked the stars for their kindness and asked what he could do for them in return.

The older, wiser ones came to him with a proposal. If he could help them watch the Earth, as the stars were dim and couldn't see very well most nights, they would grant him one night a month to walk on Earth unharmed by its harsh elements to see his lovely wife he had left there.

And so it was settled. The young man lit up the entire face of his rock called Moon that was pointed toward the Earth, giving mortals and stars alike the ability to see around them when the sun was fast asleep, and one night a month the moon will go completely dark as the bold knight visits his beautiful, gentle wife.

But over time, his features slowly changed to become dead looking, although they remained as kind as brave as before. For the moon was nothing but a dead rock, and as ruler of it, he began to mirror his lifeless kingdom.

His wife didn't care in the slightest. They loved each other and that was enough. But mortals die, and his wife was still mortal, and nothing could be done to save her, as the unlucky star had used what little malicious power it had left to prevent the other stars from turning her immortal as well.

So to this day, the Man in the Moon watches wisely over the mortals of Earth. The moon grows dark one night a month, when he mourns for his beautiful wife he loved so dearly, as he grows more lonely and sad by the day, waiting for the time when he can be released from his immortal ties and rest with his wife among the angels.

The girl smiled softly to herself as she remembered the tale her mother had used to tell.

She had always felt pity for the young man, believing that the stars, although they had meant well, had naively interfered in an untimely manner and it would have been better to just let the man die of his natural wound.

But then again, there never would have been a moon without him. She couldn't begin to picture Earth without a bright moon. She could see in her mind's eye, the brave man looking out his window onto the Earth, lonely and sad.

Strange thoughts enter out heads sometimes. Unbidden thoughts that come wholly of their own accord, it seems.

As the girl stared at the benevolent, nearly full circle of light sitting in the black heavens, one of these unbidden thoughts came to mind.

_'The Horned King must have been so lonely.'_

The girl blinked in surprise as the thought descended, wondering where in the world in had came from, but pondered on it nonetheless. Her parents had always told her she had an extremely fanciful imagination, able to imagine anything she wished, it seemed.

Suddenly, she could picture the Horned King, staring out a window of his castle, looking down on his realm, that was just as dead, lifeless and heartless as he. His cold, dead gaze slowly travels over his domain below him, stopping to rest for a sliver of a moment on a fresh sprig of grass snagged in the clinch of one of the shoes on a horse one of his men ride.

He watches, as, right before his eyes, the fresh, green grass withers and dies once it touches the earth of his dead realm.

Was that a sigh the Horned King uttered? It may have been the wind. His eyes reveal nothing.

The girl huffed softly to herself, breaking the little scene playing out in her head.

_'Why am I even thinking such thoughts?' _ She asked herself irritably. _'The Horned King was a bloodthirsty, power-hungry, completely heartless monster that never cared about anything or anybody in the entire world except himself and his ambitions. He was the true embodiment of pure evil. He slaughtered more people than I would ever want to know. He nearly took over all of Prydain as well before he could be stopped. Not to mention, he was absolutely _hideous!_ Not even a mother could love that face!'_

The girl paused at the last mental statement she had made.

_'His mother. . .I wonder if he had one?'_

She shook her head.

_'Of course everyone has a mother, you goose! But. . .was he born looking that way, I wonder? With horns? Like a monster? Was he despised by his own parents? What if even 'They' hated him, for his appearance?'_

The girl shifted her foot, disturbed by the way her mind was heading.

_'What's it like, I wonder,' _she mused silently to herself, _'To never feel loved? To never even know what that emotion is, what it means? To never feel wanted? Ever? With not even your parents to love you, to be completely rejected, hated and utterly despised. . .by 'Everyone?' Even if you had never did anything wrong? Would it be enough to turn someone, who may have had a kind heart at one time, into a. . .monster?'_

The girl closed her eyes, slowly trying to imagine the feeling, of being unloved and truly hated by everyone in her young life she cared about and knew, but she was met with a great void, so deep and so black she couldn't begin to fathom it.

It had no end.

She couldn't wrap her mind around its empty vastness, and it made her chest constrict suddenly in terror.

_'If I was trapped in that. . .I would feel so. . .hopeless. . .so completely lost. . .afraid. . .so. . .so. . .'_

She could not find a word powerful enough to describe the torrent of agony she felt deep in her chest at that moment.

_'Is this an inkling of how the Horned King may have felt?'_

She thought numbly.

_'Was this why he was so determined to take over everything, destroy anything that stood in his way, to keep his mind off this abyss?'_

She felt her eyes brim with tears.

_'Oh gods, he must have been so 'Lonely!' So completely lost and so. . .broken.'_

The girl's long train of saddening thoughts, coupled with the remnants of her horrifying nightmare that was still fresh in the back of her mind, made her eyes water suddenly as her chest ached with a deep, breaking pain she had never known before.

Suddenly losing all strength in her legs, she sank slowly to her knees in the moonlight, overwhelmed by her despairing feelings. She stared up at the moon again, and whispered, no longer able to keep silent,

"I pity you, Horned King."

A tear worked its way slowly down her cheek, leaving a glistening trail in the moonlight, as she spoke again, nearly sobbing entirely,

"I pity you with all my heart."

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On the other side of Prydain, lying on the bottom of a massive lake, were the remnants of the castle the Horned King had temporarily taken over.

The stones rose in spooky formations from the bottom, looming into view like unworldly creatures. They were all covered in silt and slime. Motionless. Dead. Stone.

It may have been a current in the water. The slightest imbalance that water sometimes does to itself that makes things in and occasionally around it move, but there was a sense of purpose in this that could not be simply shrugged off as a freak happening.

Down, down, down, deep in the watery depths of the lake. . .

One of the stones shifted.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Black Cauldron and all its characters belong to Lloyd Alexander and Disney, me-sah only own me OC and da story, mon! XD**

Chapter 3

Hot, fiery blades, searing, scorching, and stabbing deep into every inch of him.

Viciously.

Relentless.

He did not know if the constant sound of agonized screaming was coming from the other evil souls trapped in the Cauldron, or from his own throat.

If it was he could no longer feel it. The pure, excruciating agony rolling through him blocked out any and everything else.

Except the tortured wails that seemed to re-vibrate inside his own head.

He couldn't concentrate, at all. Couldn't think. Couldn't remember his own name. There was nothing but endless torture here.

He must have inhaled, because his very insides suddenly filled with scorching flames, raking their fiery fingers deep inside his body more painfully than the claws of a dragon itself, making him scream like a beast.

There was so much torment. . .so much agony. . .so much _noise. . ._

He weakly brought his hands up to his head to try and block it out, but the gesture was fruitless and brought a fresh wave of flaming blades raking over every inch of his body, which may have earned a fresh scream from him, but he could not hear himself.

He reached out desperately in the darkness before him, the black void, clawing up fistfuls of burning ashes in his palms, reaching, searching, frantically, for something he had forgotten. Something he didn't even remember, something he knew he needed more than anything else.

But whatever it was, he knew he would never get it, for he was in the Cauldron, trapped in this torturing Hell, for all eternity. His soul was chained here for ceaseless agony, forever.

His voice. . .or he fancied it was. . .rasped out harshly, grating over his scorched vocal chords, gradually turning into a scream of agony.

"Please. . .No more. . .please. . .stop. . .I beg you. . .it hurts. . .It hurts!"

He could not hear himself. No one answered.

He couldn't think, at all. Nothing but scorched out screaming and soul-shattering waves of lava washed over him, inside and out, bringing more endless, excruciating agony. It was all he knew.

The noise increased suddenly, violently building to an ear-bursting pitch, sounding like the screeching of thick metal being ripped viciously in half. He shrank as far as he could, but there was no escape.

Sometimes, things happen in everyone's consciousness without being noticed for a while that they have occurred. Something you don't notice right away, and when you finally do notice, you feel disoriented and maybe a little scared, or relieved, depending on the situation.

For instance, when your so sick you've been in the bathroom for the past four hours constantly throwing up with a bad stomach virus, that when the pain finally subsides and you find the strength to weakly stand up, you realize the phone is ringing. Somehow you know its been for a while, and you try to travel as far back into your painful memories of the previous drama as you can, trying to deduce just how long its been jangling off the hook.

A similar experience had just happened to the Horned King.

It may have been only a moment, or it may have been hours, (Time had no meaning here) but somewhere, in the dark, agonized corridors of his mind, it could have been his first conscious thought, although in reality he was far too tired and weak to think at all.

Somewhere, deep inside his ravaged, pain-scarred mind, he slowly became aware. Of something. . .different. Something foreign.

Utterly, completely exhausted, he reached his trembling consciousness toward it, weakly trying to touch what was new. . .before his thoughts comprehended what had changed.

It was the silence. Complete, total, unmarred. . .Silence.

The roaring, snarling flames, the agonized screaming of the eternally damned, the wicked, insane laughter of the one who tortured them all. . .gone.

There was nothing to hear.

And the pain. The burning, scorching agony, the blades of pure lava slicing through him without end. . .was gone. He couldn't feel anything.

Trembling with exhaustion, he slowly forced his eyes open to. . .light?

Pure, white, and endless. No flames, no darkness, nothing. Except soft, white light.

_'What. . .happened. . .to me? Where. . .am I?' _He asked silently, so exhausted he could barely think. Whether the question was to himself or someone else, he did not know.

"Rise, Horned King,"

a voice suddenly commanded him, breaking the lull. It sounded unbelievably loud in this foreign calm. It did not hold the cruelty or insane savagery of the noise from earlier, but it spoke with unquestionable authority and the dangerous promise of severe consequences if not obeyed immediately.

Trembling, from exhaustion and fresh terror too, nearly falling more than once, the Horned King struggled slowly to his feet, not daring to try and raise his eyes to see who was addressing him.

The voice continued.

"Due to circumstances beyond our range of control, you, Horned King, have been released from the hold and clutches of the Black Cauldron."

The Horned King realized it was not one voice, but rather, it sounded like many speaking at once to him, each saying the exact same thing, in the exact same tone, thereby giving the illusion of one, undivided voice.

_'I have. . .been freed? From the Cauldron?' _He slowly comprehended, but his realization was interrupted by the voice. . .voices?. . .speaking.

"We, the Fates, hereby decree that you shall be sent back to the land of Prydain."

The Horned King's eyes widened.

_'I'm. . .being sent back? To. . .Prydain?' _He thought, barely able to comprehend what was going on as another wave of weakness washed over him.

_'That's. . .not possible. It can't be. Is it? I'm dead, my body is destroyed, gone. Only my soul remains. What _is_ this they speak of?'_

The Fates continued, breaking his train of thought.

"You will remain in Prydain for a period of eighteen moons. Your assignment in to get someone to love you, in spite of your _heinous _crimes and all the senseless evil you have ever done, before your time is up. However, you will not be entirely unaided, as it would be preposterous to assume you could do it alone. If you cannot complete your task in the time we have. . ._graciously. . ._given you,"

(Here, the Horned King heard the unwillingness in the voice to admit they had been forced beyond their control to do something they clearly did not want to do, and he felt a faint drop of smugness twitch inside him, but the feeling quickly passed as they continued)

"Arwawn is free to imprison you back into the Black Cauldron forever as he wishes."

At the sound of his dreaded master's name, the Horned King felt a spear of pure ice impale his very soul.

"No, Please No!" He cried in complete panic as he fell to his knees, begging for mercy, "Don't let. . ."

"SILENCE!" The Fates roared at him, cutting him off sharply.

The Horned King cowered and put his hands to his face in terror, but forced himself not to speak again and infuriate them further.

The Fates continued in their authoritative tone.

"However, we have given you servants to aid you in the task we have assigned you, Horned King. But know this, (Here the voice became even more authoritative) You will have to _Earn_ your freedom yourself, just as you alone earned your own demise."

The white, empty place the Horned King had found himself in began to spin around him as the voices continued. Slowly at first, then picking up gradual speed, spinning all around him in layers of varying white. A cloudstorm. He himself remained stationary, in the 'eye' of the swirling mass, as it were.

"Remember, Horned King," the voice warned, "If you cannot earn a human's love in the time allotted, your soul will be doomed to the Black Cauldron. For ALL Eternity."

The spinning mass around the Horned King seemed to gather all of itself together several feet in front of him, before surging at him in a tidal wave of white. He threw up his arms to protect his face as the whiteness threw him mightily off his feet and backward into pitch darkness. The last thing he heard was the Fates, speaking in that multi-voiced tone,

"Use your chance. . .Wisely."


	4. Chapter 4

**I don't own anything except the story and my OC's.**

Chapter 4

Prydain was known for two main things.

The first was its large cities, in particular the one that made the capital, that had grown up around the grand castle where the king and queen of Prydain, with their daughter, Princess Eilonwy, lived. These cities were where the majority of the populations of Prydain resided, living in cramped, noisy, but clean and safe quarters. Nearly everyone was rich or getting there, and anyone visiting any one of the several cities in Prydain for the first time would be dazzled by its beauty. The streets were wide and well-paved, the shop-fronts bright and inviting, vendors with their stalls lining both sides of the road, leaving gaps for the little streets that branched off between the main ones between the buildings, yelling out their advertisements for their wares. The homes were hospitable and regal looking. Laughing children would chase each other happily through the streets, dodging horses pulling cabs, buggies, carts and wagons loaded with various supplies, peddlers on the street corners, and dozens of people either walking or riding to their destinations.

This was a brief but efficient look at the everyday life inside the high-walled cities of Prydain.

Outside the cities, life was a little different. Sprawled over the broad outskirts beyond the walls of the cities were the large, industrial farms and orchards. Miles upon miles of them. Several were privately owned, by rich lords or noble knights, but most of them belonged to the king. And on any given day, were you to travel down the smooth, wide dirt road, either to the capital or from it to another city, you would see the peasants in their fields, working. Sowing, scything, plowing, caring for the orchards.

These peasants were the force behind the cities. The people who supplied crops for everyone else. The people who kept the city flourishing and alive. Without these farmers, life in the city could not exist.

The king had hired most of them to work on his lands, producing crops and the like for the city-dwellers, and in exchange they would get enough of the harvests to feed their families and stock, if they had any, through the barren months. The king allowed them to build little farmhouses and a small barn, enough for a pig or some sheep, on his land if they wished. Not many other countries' kings would do that. As a result, because the royal family treated everyone fairly and justly, the king was loved and respected by nearly everyone. His wife and daughter were thought of equally fondly as well.

But there were several families that lived so far away from the bustling cities and large, industrial farms that skirted them that they only came to civilization two or three times a year to sell their own crops, maybe some stock and furs, and purchase the essentials, such as sugar, flour, salt, and other things before returning to their distant, isolated farms. These "Brush Farmers," as the city-dwellers called them, were the people that chose to make their farms in the wilderness of Prydain, secluded from the city. These little farmers worked with a zest and a zeal not seen in any of the large, industrial farmers. They valued their solitude and independence, were honest and friendly and always willing to drop everything if a fellow neighbor needed aid. But even among themselves, they settled down a respectable distance from one another, valuing their privacy. (Respectable meaning completely out of eyesight and earshot) The city-dwellers called them crazy and backwards, and the ones who didn't respected these brave, modest people and would readily make business with them.

Only a few families dared to try and forge a living like this out here in the wilderness. Only a few could step outside, see their fields and the great tree-line looming up all around them, far as the eye could see, compassing them in, not another human in sight or hearing, and not feel even a twinge of unease. Only a few could lay down at night, listen as the forest came alive with its predatory sounds, knowing they were a day's ride from the nearest neighbor, and for some, a full week's ride from town, and sleep peacefully.

For Prydain was a wild country. As wild, savage and mysterious as it had been nearly a thousand years ago when a group of rebels, after defying their cruel king, fled across the sea and shipwrecked on the country's rocky seacoasts, and made their own government and land borders. Sometimes when invaders had threatened them, either from the sea or by land, the wilderness itself killed more men than the warring parties did. And though the city-dwellers felt safe and secure behind the high stone walls, and the outskirt farmers felt at ease in their little homes, most avoided going outside at night if it could at all be helped.

For the savage, wild beasts of Prydain could be heard in the forests encircling civilization then, filling the night with their cries. The who-who of the owl and various songs of insects and other night-birds were overshadowed by the wide variety of grunts, growls, snarls, barks, chatters, cries and howls of the multitude of predators as they began their hunt. But even worse was the silence in between all that, the silence the beasts actually hunted in. The type that made you hold your breath if you listened hard enough, and finally, when the scream of unsuspecting prey filled the dark night, made you jump in fear yourself. The Brush Farmers would barely bat an eyelid at it, unless it came too close to their homes, but it was a sharp reminder to every city-dweller in hearing distance that Prydain was still a wild country, and it would never be truly tamed and conquered. The humans were still foreigners here.

But despite the fact that the civilized areas of Prydain, though very large, the main cities were generously spaced apart, some days from each other, leaving miles of wilderness between, it was the little farms of the brush farmers that speckled the wilderness in random areas that a certain little goblin was having great trouble avoiding.

Creeper's gwythaint had flown for hours after the Horned King's defeat over the wilderness, till dawn had came and Creeper had had to stop the beastly thing and make the exhausted creature land before they were spotted.

He had been living in the wilds for nearly a month now, living off anything edible, and for a goblin, that was quite a selection.

Creeper was having the best time of his life. He had never felt so happy. For the first time in his existence, there was no one to kick him, step on him, tease or torment or mock him, no Horned King to choke him whenever one of his master's schemes hadn't gone as planned. . .there was absolutely no one.

And Creeper loved it. He had never tasted freedom till the Horned King's defeat, and he had never enjoyed himself so completely. The gwythaint was his only companion. Perhaps it was lack of its own species nearby to associate with, or perhaps it still viewed the little green creeper as its groom, or perhaps it was want of companionship, that caused the beast to remain near the goblin. And although the sentiment never once entered Creeper's head, he valued the gwythaint's presence. A little goblin would be pitifully easy prey for any one of the predators that roamed Prydain, so having the gwythaint near him was a bonus. Its presence meant protection. No one, man or beast, would dare mess with a dragon. Unless they wanted a grisly, early demise.

The sun was crawling up the horizon from the east, slanting through the crowns of the trees and giving light to the dimmer forest floor as Creeper was digging up wild potatoes of some sort for his breakfast, digging like a dog. The little potatoes were bitter and tough to humans, unless cooked a certain way, but Creeper ate them straight from the soil in heavenly bliss. That, and he didn't know how to make a fire anyway. As Creeper crunched on them happily, he chattered at the gwythaint, who was lying contentedly at the base of a large tree, dozing. It had eaten only a couple hours ago, and the now-skeletal, mangled remains of a deer lay several yards away, covered in flies. The white bones showing through the bloody mess glowed slightly in the crimson stain on the forest floor.

"You ugly beast!" Creeper told the creature around a mouthful of potato. "Your lucky you haven't been spotted by any of the humans yet, because if you lead them to me I promise I'll rip you to pieces and leave you here! I want nothing to do with those pests!"

If anyone had been looking on at the time, they may have been amused at the sight of a goblin, only a little over two feet tall when standing upright, threatening this dragonic creature the size of a horse, with teeth and claws longer than the goblin's forearm.

Creeper took another bite, then in a fit of joy suddenly leapt in the air and turned a backflip. Being so small, he could do it with such ease he didn't even bother moving his arms, he just did it.

"Who's laughing now?" He cackled in glee. "I'M not the ones that got crushed by the stones, or the ones that drowned or got eaten by the Cauldron's mist!"

Creeper cackled again. He was referring to the various henchmen that the Horned King had picked up somewhere or another to do his bidding, and they had tormented the goblin constantly. Many had died when the Cauldron had destroyed the castle that the Horned King had taken over.

"Even HE didn't make it out alive! Master is locked in the Cauldron forever, and there is no escape!"

In sadistic glee Creeper did a little jig around the pile of potatoes he had accumulated.

The gwythaint suddenly stiffened, opening its pale green-ish gold eyes, sliding back the transparent film of the second eyelid away from its pupils as the creature raised its dragonic head.

"YOU can never bother me again, Massster," Creeper snarled, putting a bitterly sarcastic edge on the last word. "I belong to no one now, and you are my master no more!"

He yammered on, not even noticing the uneasy gwythaint lash its tail once and carefully stand up, turning its head on its long neck in all directions, as if listening for something.

Creeper crunched on another bite of potato as he jabbered on to himself. "Maybe after I eat I'll ride over one of these little farms and scare all the humans. They'll be the ones running from me this time! Hah!"

He stopped in mid-chew for a moment. "But if the humans see the gwythaint, they may get a hunting party to come after us. Of course, I could always silence them. . .permanently."

Creeper grinned evilly at the thought. Noise caught his ear and he finally turned around to see the gwythaint pacing the tiny clearing, its head up and eyes burning, wings folded neatly to its sides. Creeper scowled as the creature snorted loudly through its nose, its ribcage shuddering as it scented the air.

"Quiet, you foul creature," Creeper hissed. "Your disturbing me!"

The gwythaint suddenly ceased all movement, eyes narrowed, nostrils wide, neck arched, as it cocked its earhole toward the west.

_'He calls,'_ the gwythaint heard in the breeze, _'Your master calls to you.'_

The beast could not understand what the wind spoke, but what it meant was crystal clear. Abruptly the gwythaint turned, and, quicker than anyone would imagine a beast with the power of flight of its size to be on the ground, snatched up the Creeper by his little cape and the back of his shirt. Creeper yelped in shock and surprise as the gwythaint lifted him off the ground in its strong jaws.

"Set me down this instant, you beastly brute!" Creeper shouted. "You obey ME! I'm not your toy!"

The gwythaint ignored him as it had all morning, and throwing its head up, began to pump its leathery, batlike wings. Creeper's throat tightened suddenly, and it wasn't just from the increased pressure around his neck.

_ 'Oh no, its going to fly!'_

Creeper screamed as the gwythaint's powerful wingbeats scattered the forest litter in all directions as it rose into the air, pumping hard, its head rocking up and down for extra momentum, throwing Creeper up and down like a rag in the wind. By the time the dragon burst out of the treetops and into the sun, throwing leaves everywhere, Creeper felt like he'd been kicked down a flight of stairs in a barrel. A very Looong flight of stairs. He was seeing three of everything and the back of his head throbbed from the constant knocking it had taken against the gythaint's teeth.

The beast soared higher and higher, seeking a wind current to ride on. After it found one taking them in the direction it wanted to go, the gwythaint leveled itself out to glide. No longer having to constantly pump to stay in the air, the creature's flight became smoother and definitely more comfortable for the goblin in its iron-jawed grip. True, the ride would have been very relaxing, if Creeper had been on the gwythaint's back and not dangling from its mouth, getting dizzy watching the ground sweep past below him and realizing just _how_ high up he was, and should the gwythaint drop him. . .he shuddered in fear.

"Where are you going?" He asked the creature in a near-panicked tone, as he looked down at the earth below him again in fear.

The trees looked like little bushes from this distance. The gwythaint suddenly braked in midair and veered sharply to the right to avoid flying over a brush farmer hoeing a large field he had probably cleared out himself. His attention was only on the ground he was hoeing though, and he didn't even look up as the gwythaint flew away.

"Ow!" The goblin barked before he could stop himself as the back of his head hit the gwythaint's teeth again. "Be more careful next time, and don't drop me!" He snapped crossly.

The gwythaint's flight became a little smoother after that. Creeper noticed it would dodge the farms before it reached them instead of waiting till the last minute, but it didn't help the goblin's frame of mind much. Humans were everywhere down there, although they were all hidden from this range, the dragon stood out like a cardinal in wintertime in the sky, in painfully full view. Some of the beast's drool ran down Creeper's back, and he cringed.

_'This is going to be a looong day.'_

Perhaps it was better that he did not know then what was in store for him. It may have made him bring his breakfast up, and being airsick was not pleasant.

After what felt like days, but Creeper guessed it was only about one and a half hours, possibly two, judging by the sun, that he noticed the giant lake start looming into view on the horizon, a big blue splash in the middle of the greys, browns, greens and assorted wildflower clusters on the land. Creeper looked at it for a moment, thinking.

_'The lake. . . . the one that the Horned King's castle was currently resting at the bottom of in pieces, and you're going back now, after all this time. . .'_

Creeper tried to twist his head up to look at the gwythaint. "Your mate is dead, you know," he half shouted to be able to hear himself above the wind. 'It perished the same as everything else."

There was no response from the creature packing him. Creeper huffed.

He had seen the other gwythaint burn to death as it was buried alive simultaneously. Suddenly the gwythaint lurched in the air, earning a shriek of terror from the goblin as it fought its way back to the draft that had helped carry it all this way. Creeper suddenly noticed how labored the dragon's wing-beats had become, the deep, struggling breaths it took through its nose as it pumped, not being able to open its mouth.

_'Its been flying longer than it has in nearly a month,' _

Creeper realized. A gwythaint would never tire itself like this intentionally unless it had a very good reason, always making sure to save reserves of energy to chase and kill prey. A tired gwythaint caught no food. Creeper turned back to the lake, which was getting closer. The thick, white fog from last night had not burned off it completely, but it was clearing off, and as they drew closer, Creeper noticed a large dark form inside the mist beginning to take shape in the middle of the lake. Creeper squinted his eyes, trying to focus on it, right as the gwythaint drew close enough that the mist parted for them and the goblin saw something that made his breath hitch and his stomach go to his throat in shock.

_ 'What the. . .'_

For right there, in the center of the lake, the lake making its grand moat, stood the old castle, looking nearly as it had before it had been destroyed, just as frightening and eerie as it had when the Horned King ruled it. Complete with the drawbridge spanning the lake-turned-moat to the shore, everything was there.

_ 'What in the name of. . .'_ Creeper thought in shock._ 'I SAW that castle blow up and sink with my own two eyes! How on earth. . .' _

Then, as the gwythaint drew ever nearer to the castle, Creeper looked into the arching window-hole in the stone overlooking the drawbridge, and saw something that made his heart turn to pure ice and drop straight into his toes in total horror. For there, in the window, watching them draw closer, was the menacing silhouette of someone Creeper had never, not even in his worst nightmares, had ever expected to see again in the rest of his days. . . .

The Horned King himself.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

The Horned King slowly opened his eyes, tiredly blinking his fuzzy surroundings into focus. He carefully got to his hands and knees on the hard stone, his head hung low, shaking it once to try and clear his thoughts. He could not ever remember feeling this exhausted.

_'Where. . .am I?'_ He thought wearily. _'How did I. . .get here?' _

Completely confused and disoriented, not to mention dizzy, he weakly stood up, scanning his dim surroundings. Massive stone pillars, designed to hold up large buildings, could be dimly made out in the gloom.

There was no torches, but the Horned King didn't need them. He hadn't for a thousand years. He was in a very large room, entirely of stone, except for the massive support beams that had been made from the trunks of enormous trees. They stood at the corners and along the walls in a couple areas, stabilizing the walls and ceiling. Cobwebs were everywhere, as was dust, but it looked as if the room had been brushed over somehow. It was very, very empty. Something clicked.

_'I know this place,'_ he realized. _'I stored my skeleton warriors here so I could make them Cauldron Bor__"

A small prick of fear suddenly nipped his heart in a mocking fashion, and he quickly turned around to look behind himself.

There sat the Black Cauldron, atop the stone platform in the center of the room, several steps above the main floor. The platform was large enough for a throne to sit on, and it was dominated by the giant hunk of iron and shadow in the barely perceivable light.

And then it all came back in a crashing wave. . .the screaming, the fire, the endless, eternal torture. . .The Hell.

The Horned King gasped in horror and practically leaped away from the wretched monstrosity, stepping on the hem of his robe and falling backwards onto the floor in the process. In sheer, panicked terror he crawled backwards as fast as absolutely possible, falling over his robes, gasping in fright. He didn't stop till his back collided sharply against the stone wall, but he didn't even notice, eyes staring wildly at the Cauldron.

_the roar of the flames. . ._

_'Please. . .'  
_

_the screams of the souls. . ._

_'Stop!'_

_the screams of himself. . ._

_'Mercy. . .I beg you!'_

_the noise of the fire. . ._

_'Please. . .Master. . .'_

_the agony. . ._

_'It hurts! Please. . .no more. . .'_

_the Hell. . ._

_'Please. . .'_

The Horned King put his hands to his face in a useless attempt to stop the echoes as wave after wave of Hell-ish memories crashed over him. He shut his eyes tightly, but they kept coming. Ceaseless.

_'No!'_

_'It hurts!'_

_I'LL KILL YOU I'LL KILL You I'll Kill You i'll kill you i'll kill you. . ._

_screaming. . .so much screaming. . .pain, pain, pain, pain, pain, pain. . .everywhere. . .'_

The Horned King pressed his hands tighter to his eyes and shook his head fiercely, trying to force them out, and cried, "No, no, no!"

The memories flooded his ears and mind with agony and noise, drowning him. . .He couldn't stand it anymore. . .

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!"

He let out a screaming roar of pure anguish like a beast driven mad, that echoed off the walls of the chamber and came back to ring hatefully in his ears, bringing back even more. . .

'Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhh!

Gaaaaaaaahhhh!

gaaaahhhhh!

gaahhh!

aahh. . . .'

The echoing sound would have made anyone's blood turn to pure ice in their veins, regardless of how brave or battle-hardened they might have been, had they been in the castle at the time. It was a sound of agonized, unspeakable, unthinkable pain.

As the waves of flashbacks gradually subsided, becoming little drops and trickles clinging to his thoughts instead of dominating them, the Horned King slowly pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his head in his arms like a child, shaking violently against the wall he was pressed against, as the wicked, cruelest, insanest laughter he had ever heard re-vibrate inside his head, echoing off his skull, paralyzing him.

_Hah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!. . . ._

_'Its over, its over, it was just a dream, just a dream, just a dream. He can't get me, he can't. . .' _

His near-sobbing attempt to comfort himself was fruitless.

It took many, many minutes for his mind to clear and for him to orient himself, but when he finally managed to shove those horrible memories as far back into himself as he could, he became aware of another presence in the room. He raised his head from his arms as the torches on either side of the hall on the far right-hand-ish corner of the room seemingly lit themselves, bringing sudden light to be replace the dimness.

The Horned King raised a hand to shield his face and turned away for a moment, as the light hurt his eyes, before looking back toward the mouth of the hall to see who it was.

"Come, your Highness," he distinctly heard a voice say, "Come with us."

Instantly the Horned King was on the defense. His body, which had finally decided to listen to him, allowed him to pull himself as quickly as he could, without falling again in his weakened state, up to a standing position, leaning on the wall for support. Furious at being seen in such a pathetic state, he snarled in the direction of the torches,

"Who are you? Show yourselves now, trespassers!"

A sigh followed. "We are not visible to the eye, your Highness," the voice replied. "We are here only to aid you with your goal."

"I did not ask for _aid_!" The Horned King hissed, "Nor do I require it for any reason. Begone now, spirits!"

"We cannot leave the assignment the Fates have bestowed upon us,' the voice answered. "Not until either your goal is completed or your time expires."

"What goal?" The Horned King demanded as he laboriously straightened himself, no longer leaning against the wall for support.

"Surely, you remember, your Majesty?" The voice gently prodded. "The Fates?"

The Horned King paused.

_'The Fates?'_ He remembered silently. _'They freed me from the Cauldron. . .no, they were *made* to free me. Something they had no power over. . .But what is more powerful than Fate itself?'_

The voice broke him from his thoughts. "Do you remember the stipulation they require of you?"

The Horned King resumed his thought in silence.

_'Yes, hmm. . .it seems they expect a human to love me within a certain time period,'_ he remembered, silently scoffing. _'They must be truly mad to even fathom that. I do not require this petty weakness. Nor will I attempt to gain something that I can never acquire. If they expect me to grovel and beg at a pathetic mortal's feet for anything. . .especially something I will never get. . .not that I deserve it. . .they are fools.'_

"Your Highness, there is much to be done," the voice spoke. "Please, come with us. You only have a short time."

The Horned King took a step in their direction, before glancing down at himself. His body was whole and real again. Even his dark crimson robes and fur stole were the same. As if nothing had ever happened.

_'So, I am truly back.'_

He thought as he flexed his left hand. A pillar on his left caught his eye as he looked back up, and he stopped to glance at it. A couple feet above a iron ring bolted into it, about at his eye level, were about half a dozen scratches cut deep into the stone. Lighter in color than the rest of the pillar, they were fairly noticeable.

The Horned King stared at them with a blank expression for a moment, before slowly turning to survey the entire the room in a single sweeping glance. Now that most of his head was clear, he finally truly understood where he was.

The prison level. In the bowels of the castle that he had taken over when he tried to conquer Prydain. Where he had tried to achieve his greatest triumph. His supreme goal he had been centuries trying to fulfill. And he had been so close, it had seemed that nothing, _nothing_, could stop him from achieving it. His lifelong quest for world domination, gaining ultimate, unstoppable power with an undead undefeatable army. . .until that meddling little brat had interfered. . .the Horned King's eyes narrowed in remembrance, before they suddenly flashed blood red in hatred in rage.

_'That insufferable Pig-Keeper is to blame for everything,'_

He thought viciously, turning to look at the pillar again, eyes blazing. He touched the scratches in the pillar, that he himself had put there, in an attempt to save himself from the Cauldron's rage, a lifetime before.

_ 'All of my plans, my power laid waste. He put me in that Hell, and no doubt thinks he has won. He has no idea I have returned, and by the time he does, I'll have my fingers round his throat, and my face will be the last thing he'll *ever* see. . .'_

The Horned King bared his fangs in a grin so evil, it would have turned Hades himself, lord of the Underworld and all its horrors, into a cowering, quivering heap.

_'Oh, yesss,'_ the Horned King thought as he entered the hall,_ 'I will so enjoy squeezing the very life out of him. Watching that damnable boy *suffer* for everything he's done to me. . .make him *pay*. . .watching the light leave his eyes, his thrashings cease. . .and all at my own hand.'_

The Horned King's black heart jumped in wicked excitement at the prospect, making him bare his fangs in the cruelest glee, eyes flaring an even brighter, darker red before slowly dimming into blackness as he composed himself.

He reached the window that looked down over the moat, drawbridge and gates, silently remembering his undead army.

His magnificent, perfect army that had walked out of the castle, across this very drawbridge, ready to conquer the world for him, before dropping like flies into the moat as the Cauldron's power had left their shells, turning them into lifeless skeletons once more. The Horned King's eyes smoldered darkly as he stared.

Movement above caught his eye, and he glanced up into the sky. A large, dark silhouette was flying toward the castle over the mainland, several hundred feet above the ground, above the thick, white mist that surrounded the castle and lake beside it, which had not yet burned off in the early morning sun.

As it drew closer and closer, finally breaking through the damp, cloudy wall into view, the Horned King saw it was one of his two gwythaint servants that had done his bidding before his demise.

When it got even closer to the castle and began to gracefully lose altitude, he noticed with a twinge of surprise that it was carrying the Creeper in its mouth.

_'So, he survived,'_ The Horned King thought.

_'I will make good use of that.'_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

* * *

The Horned King took a step away from the window, giving a small beckon-signal with his right hand. The gwythaint saw this and aimed for the hole in the wall.

The window was wide, as every castle's was, but the gwythaint was going much too fast to simply land on the thick stone sill of it. As its master stood back to give it room, the beast approached, calculating the distance with its eyes. Right at the last possible second, it folded its wings quickly to its sides, and streamlined itself through the space.

Opening them again the instant the creature and its "passenger" were through, the gwythaint flew once around the spacious room to regain its control before carefully perching on the back of a stone bench near the far wall, directly across from the window.

Folding its wings, the gwythaint promptly dropped its goblin cargo the five feet to the floor, before panting gently through its now-empty mouth, trying to regain its breath.

Creeper landed on his stomach, hitting the stone hard. He groaned at the impact, holding in a growl as his little cap slid over his eyes. He got to his knees, then his feet, dusting himself off and mumbling something obscene about gwythaint drool.

A long shadow fell the length of the room, stemming from the window, covering the goblin too. Creeper glanced up at the change and gasped loudly, falling back against the wide bench-leg in speechless terror.

The goblin stared, eyes wide and horror-stricken, his heart beating hard against his ribs, but he scarcely felt it.

_'This can't be!'_

Creeper thought as his former Master glared down at him, _'It can't! This has to be a nightmare, its not real! I watched him die. . .'_

His Master growled in displeasure at the goblin, and Creeper came back to reality with a jolt, realizing he'd been staring.

"Master," he stammered, shock evident in every syllable, "Your. . .Your back! But. . .but ho. . .ach!"

Creeper yelped in pain and fear as his Master grabbed him by his throat and brought him up to slightly below his eye level.

"How long has it been?" The Horned King demanded, his voice cold.

Creeper struggled to breathe in panic, fear effectively clouding his mind and preventing him from giving any sort of coherent answer.

". . .Ach. . .Oc. . ."

When the goblin did not answer, his Master clenched his fist tighter around his slave's throat, making the goblin gag and struggle harder, although they both knew it was useless.

Creeper's world began to darken after a few moments of this, black spots dancing past his eyes and popping up again like mosquitoes. He vaguely felt his struggling get weaker, but all his panicked mind could process was a single thought, running through his head over and over. . .

_'Please, no, not again! Please! This can't be happening to me!'_

The Horned King watched expressionlessly as the Creeper choked and gagged in his grip, feebly attempting to loosen his Master's merciless hold. The Horned King did not know or care how many times he had done this in the past, but the sadistic satisfaction he got from watching the pathetic little creature struggle in vain never dulled.

"The answer to your question is about 6 weeks, Sire," a voice said from the doorway.

The Horned King turned his head and eyes only a fraction to look toward the voice, absorbing this information, ignoring the suffocating Creeper. After a moment the Horned King carelessly dropped the goblin, who was mere seconds away from passing out completely.

Creeper coughed and nearly gagged as fresh air entered his lungs again, allowing him to live once more. Gasping heavily, rubbing his throat, he glanced fearfully up at his Master, who had left him and was standing a few feet from the gwythaint, observing it.

It was still there where it had landed, perched on the back of the bench, leaving small scratch-marks in the stone. The gwythaint was still panting, though not as badly as before. Its head hung lower than usual from exhaustion, but it raised its neck briefly to make eye contact with its Master. No commands were given, and neither moved closer or farther from the other. One pair of eyes were calculating, the other's almost curious. When no orders were given after a few moments, the gwythaint lowered its head back to its original position, still trying to catch its breath after the lengthy flight.

"Take care of the gwythaint," The Horned King ordered, not bothering to look at Creeper as he deliberately left the room.

"Yes, Sire,"

The goblin rasped as he shakily got to his feet. Walking unsteadily over to the bench, he climbed laboriously up onto the gwythaint's back. Still unable to breathe properly, let alone speak, he bumped the beast's still-heaving ribcage with his feet in a signal.

The exhausted creature glided to the window, this time resting on the sill for a moment before leaping off. At the goblin's command, it spiraled down through the air to gracefully fly through the door of one of the barns in the massive courtyard.

If Creeper had been paying attention, he might have been surprised that the old stall the gwythaints had used before was there, exactly as before, (minus the filth) and that the gwythaint lit gently on the right side of the massive perch instead of the center.

But Creeper was not paying attention. Scarcely aware of what he was doing, he slid numbly off the gwythaint's back to the floor, which was covered in fresh straw bedding. Never in his life had he felt this cold inside, not even when blizzards had whipped hard around the castle so hard the stones themselves actually shook. Never had he felt so completely empty, even when his Master had starved him for days on end as punishment. . .although the reasons behind the treatment were unclear.

The goblin slowly sank down into the straw, hardly conscious of what he was doing, staring blankly in front of him without seeing. The shock of seeing his Master alive again, and seeing everything here, as if the Cauldron incident had never taken place, after he had thought for so long that this horrible place was behind him for good, had taken his life and turned it inside out.

In Creeper's empty haze he was somewhat aware of the gwythaint leaning down from its perch to blow softly in his face and nuzzle his shoulder in an almost concerned way. Like a pet dog or pony would do when they wanted attention.

The act prompted the goblin to slowly rise and walk across the barn hall. Three stalls down on the opposite side was where the meat was stored.

Like a drunkard Creeper dragged a large haunch of something. . .it could have been beef. . .back down to the gwythaint's stall. The creature ruffled its wings slightly as it hopped off the aptly sized perch and onto the straw. After glancing around for a brief moment, as if searching for something, the gwythaint turned and immediately ripped off a piece of meat. Being a predator, a gwythaint never turned down food. Who knew when it would get the opportunity to eat again.

The sound of ripping flesh pulled Creeper's mind out of his shocked haze and harshly back into reality, with all its twisted wretchedness. Blinking, he stared for a moment, watching the gwythaint eat, before looking down at himself and realizing he was shaking uncontrollably. His teeth chattered in his mouth, and he leaned on the doorframe of the stall for support as his little legs nearly gave out on him again.

_'So, he's really back,'_ Creeper thought numbly. _'I'm not having another nightmare. But how? How? How can this happen to me? Was his death and my freedom the dream, instead? Why must the Fates, if they even exist, torment me so? Hasn't my Master done enough of that himself without their help? Does everyone hate Creeper? Everyone?'_

He stumbled over to the gwythaint's water bucket for a drink. The gwythaint hadn't used it yet, and although the goblin's eating habits could be considered a bit disgusting from a human's point of view, he did have limits. There was no way he was drinking after _That_ thing, especially after it just finished eating.

After scooping some water up to his mouth to drink, he splashed a little on his face. It eased his headache somewhat. As the ripples subsided, the goblin could see his face in its depths.

He had looked at himself in a calm forest pool only yesterday, and he could vaguely remember the savage satisfaction he had gotten out of noticing the last blemishes from his Master's abuse finally fade after several weeks.

He stared blankly at himself now in the water, eyeing the fresh bruises that had formed almost immediately around his throat. Turning blue and black and purple. As if nothing had ever changed.

It could have been then that his little heart finally broke.

He glared down at his reflection with an anger so hot he shook from the force of it. A couple tears slipped dismally down his face. That angered him even more.

Creeper suddenly slapped the water so hard it stung his hand and made the gwythaint jump.

"I hate you!"

He snarled, so much hot poison in his voice that the gwythaint stopped chewing, eyes wider than usual, to stare at him.

"I hate you, I HATE you and I wish You'd DIE!"

Creeper screamed, as more tears streamed from his eyes, following the first two he had ever shed in his life.

Creeper had never cried before. It was something totally alien to him. He had seen a few prisoners the Horned King occasionally took (although these incidents were extremely rare) cry and plead for their lives, only to be killed anyway. Even some of the Horned King's men, when they irritated him too much, would grovel and beg for their lives, right before their heads were separated from their bodies. Creeper had learned by watching to associate crying with fear and weakness. And it burned him even more now to think that he was finally doing it. Something he'd never thought he'd do. He knew he was a coward, but he had learned by watching, too, that cowards sometimes survived. And he hated it.

As the little broken goblin curled up in the straw and sobbed, it wasn't all because of his abusive master being back from the dead and his freedom being wrenched away from him. Nearly all of it was, but a very small part of his pain came from the spiteful words he had just uttered, because he wasn't sure if he had meant them completely to the Horned King.

A part of him wondered if he had really meant it to himself.


	7. Chapter 7

**Except for my OC's and the story, I don't own diddly-squat. Everything else belongs to Disney and Lloyd Alexander.**

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Chapter 7

The two burning torches on either side of the doorway were the only light sources the dim room was graced with, other than the window on the opposite side of the floor, but the torn curtains were pulled tight in a contradictory manner, preventing any outside light from coming in.

The furniture was incredibly sparse, but to the room's sole occupant it mattered not in the slightest, as he paced the length of the floor with a monotonous stride, hands behind his back. He may have appeared only slightly puzzled by some intriguing thing or another, but the deathly aura that surrounded him lent a sense of dark purpose to his seemingly languid movements that turned them from casual to horrifying in an instant. He made not the slightest sound, save for the soft rustle of his robe brushing the stone floor. The silence only added to his frightening presence. A storm of varying emotions worked across his normally impassive face. Confusion, irritation, fury, desperation, hate, possible panic. . .no two were the same, and his eyes were black pits that could fell the mighty oak at a single glance.

In short, the Horned King was in a raging temper.

It had been a month since he had been released from the Hellish pits of the Cauldron, and although the initial shock of being raised from the dead and having everything back to the way it was up until the last few minutes before his demise had more or less passed, the shock of the overwhelming helplessness of his current situation had not dimmed in the slightest.

The words that decreed the impossible task the Fates had bestowed upon him echoed in his head. . .

_'If you cannot earn a human's love in 18 moons, your soul will be returned to the Black Cauldron. . .for all eternity._'

The phrase had repeated itself in a ceaseless loop in his consciousness ever since he had been brought back to Prydain. All day, all night. Tormenting him. He could, with difficulty, push it to the farthest depths of his mind and try in vain to occupy himself with something else, but being all alone in a gigantic castle that was completely void of anything or anyone worth his time did not give him much else to think about. It was when he was alone, however, away from his Invisible Servants, that it would float back to the surface of his mind and sit there like pond scum.

_'Earn a human's love. . ._

_In eighteen moons. . ._

_Or suffer for all time. . .'_

The Horned King curled his lip in a silent snarl of rage.

_'Those Fates picked this task for me intentionally because they knew I would have absolutely no chance of completing it,' he thought grimly. 'They would want nothing more than to send me back to the Cauldron. To. . .*him*.'_

The Horned King held in a shudder with effort.

_'To further insult me and complicate matters, they gave me a limited time to achieve it in as well. What do they expect? I, the *Horned King*, murderer of thousands, and enslaver of thousands more, to grovel at a pathetic mortal's feet and beg for forgiveness? For *love*?'_

He silently scoffed.

_'They certainly realize that love, the weak emotion that it is, can only be created by something that has a heart? A beating, life-giving, but weak nonetheless, heart.'_

The Horned King temporarily halted in his pacing to glance down at his chest.

_'And, as every living thing knows, I no longer possess such an object. I lost it centuries ago, along with all other impractical things that would hinder me in my quest for ultimate power. And the countless number of people who's deaths I dealt with personally over the centuries have never failed to remind me of it ever since. Always their last words. . ."You are a cold and heartless monster!" The few emotions I still faintly possess. . .which I simply call them for lack of a better term. . .do not require a heart to stem from. I am heartless. I cannot feel. I cannot touch upon these things mortals so foolishly live on. I cannot feel love. Nor do I have any wish to. They are so weak it nearly sickens me. And I'm certain the Fates know as well, someone with a heart cannot love something that possesses no heart to love them back. Not that I would even be considered worthy of receiving such a feeling anyhow.'_

The Horned King resumed his pacing, continuing his noiseless, raging monologue.

_'The only reason the Fates released me from the Cauldron at all was because they had no choice. They were forced to.'_

The Horned King bared his fangs in a silent, mocking leer for a moment at the thought, before sinking back into his trance-like state.

_'I have studied everything about the Fates and the Black Cauldron endless times, and I have not found a single bit of evidence as to what could have forced them to release me. What is stronger than Fate itself? What was powerful enough to make them release my soul from the Cauldron and bring me back to life in my own body, (Which was destroyed when I died) completely against their will? Perhaps if I could find it, that would be the answer to keeping myself here permanently, preventing me from going back to that Hell. But I will not allow myself to hope for it. Just as I will not allow myself to hope for saving myself from the Cauldron. I will not allow the Fates to dangle hope over my head like a priceless gem, and let them watch me fail miserably trying to snatch it. They will not control me like a man controls his beast. Because I know I have no chance of getting the thing they so harshly taunt me with.'_

The Horned King paused again for a moment in his pacing to block out a mental image of himself back in the Cauldron that had suddenly appeared in his mind, screaming for mercy as the flames of Hell licked at him. Whenever the words of the Fates were not endlessly looping inside his head, it was the sounds of the Cauldron that haunted him. The screams of the tortured damned lent back-noise to the insanest, wickedest laughter that overrode the Horned King's mind completely at times, sending shivers of terror to crawl through him.

With an effort he forcefully shoved the images away and resumed his silent musings with a sigh so soft it could have been the breeze outside, an air of broken resignation in the sound.

_'Perhaps if I did possess a sliver of hope, I might try to complete this task, to save my soul from the eternal, endless torture the Fates released me from. But one cannot hope without a heart, and I have no heart to do so with. I am heartless, and therefore I am hopeless as well. Even if I were capable of feeling, no one would ever feel anything but hatred for me, let alone *love*.' _

His lip curled again at the mere thought of the word.

_'How could they? The things I have done? The people I've slaughtered without so much as a second thought? My appearance does not help matters, but that is irrelevant. No one would ever. . .*could* ever. . .forgive me for the things I have done.'_

The Horned King slowly walked to the window, pulling one of the moth-eaten curtains aside to stare across the massive stretch of wasteland surrounding the castle. It stretched out like a dead, lifeless brown belt, surrounding what his domain had been before his demise.

He stared out past the striking, endless lush green forests and hills of Prydain that lay beyond that, and toward the general area of where he knew the nearest city to be, although he couldn't see it. The sky was dark with ominous clouds, and odd drops of rain were already falling. Lightning flashed faintly in the distance, accented by a soft rumble of thunder. The sky was black enough for even the simplest bum to say Mother Nature was going to release a storm of explosive proportions. Much like the storm going on inside the spectator's head now.

_'No doubt they have celebrated my death with much relief,' he thought. 'That *Pig-Keeper* is probably a hero for causing my demise.'_

The Horned King's eyes darkened as the cool breeze tugged strongly at the curtains, trying to throw them open even further. His right hand slowly curled into a fist to grip his robe tightly, while his left, no longer holding the curtain, gripped the stone sill tightly, his claws leaving small indents in the stone as he otherwise kept his composure.

_'I will allow myself one goal. Before I return to the Cauldron, I will hunt that boy down, or lure him here, and I will kill him as slowly and painfully as possible. I will make him suffer a hundredfold for all the torment he has caused me, and will cause me when I am forced to return to the Cauldron. He could be anywhere in Prydain, but he cannot hide from me. I will track him down, if it takes all of my time here to do it with, and I will make him pay.'_

The Horned King's eyes shimmered blood red in unbridled hatred, staring out over Prydain, as the wind rippled his robes and caused his stole to flap in the gust. A branched streak of lightning shot across the sky above the castle, lighting up its frightening silhouette as a roar of thunder caused the very stones to tremble slightly, adding dark foreboding to his vow.

_'Oh, yes. This, I swear.'_


	8. Chapter 8

**If anyone is reading this, please review it and tell me what you think! XD A review would make my day! :D**

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Chapter 8

The rider paused in startled shock as a brilliant streak of lightning filled the sky, almost directly over them.

The horse snorted and shifted to a halt, surprised by the sudden tightening of his reins. He raised his head and breathed in the cool breeze that had suddenly became rather cold and rough, as it blew leaves and other debri harshly all around. His nostrils flared as his sense of smell indicated it was going to be something no living creature would ever want to be caught out in, and he stamped his foot and tugged firmly against his bits, wanting to get home. The sudden fear that had welled up in his master at the sudden change in weather only urged the horse's feet to get going. Quickly.

The rider gasped as thunder growled menacingly in the distance, looking up fearfully at the thick, inky clouds that had seemingly popped up out of thin air to darken everything. Only a minute ago it had been pleasant and breezy, a perfect day, and now this. It was as if the storm had just. . .happened.

Tendrils of uncertainty tightened around the rider's chest, and she turned her head to briefly look back from where she'd came, a darker, flattened path in the knee-length grass meadow winding back into the darker stretch of forest behind.

Her horse worried at his bits and she laid a hand on his neck to calm him as she frantically pondered on whether to go back or keep going. Another streak of lightning and rumble of thunder forced her hand and she loosed her mount's reins while simultaneously tapping his sides with her boots.

_'If I get caught out in this, Mother will worry herself sick,' _she thought_. 'And its far too late to go back to Dalben's now, I'll never make it! My best bet is to get home fast.'_

Her mount needed no urging and all but leaped forward in his eagerness to be off, tossing his head in relief. He immediately broke into a smooth canter and leveled out as they entered another stretch of forest and hit the deer-trail that would take them home, his hoofbeats vibrating through the ground like an earthquake. The wind yanked at his mane and tail in a jealous manner but he paid it no heed. The girl held his reins and saddle horn tight and silently urged him on as the wind pulled at her clothes and hair roughly.

_'Home, boy,'_ she thought, casting a quick glance above her. The thrashing tree limbs nearly obscured the black sky but another growl of thunder made her stomach clench.

_'Hurry!'_

* * *

She had known from the start she wouldn't make it home, but she didn't know she would still be so far away from it when the storm began in earnest. Much like the black clouds had descended with no warning, the rain followed suit, not bothering to give so much as a sprinkle before crashing down in massive sheets.

Being beneath the thick cover of the deep forest trees would've helped a great deal if the wind hadn't kept using the branches like wet towels, slapping through the air to instantly soak the horse and rider down below.

It was now pitch black, which made the near constant lightning all the more brilliant. The girl's stomach clenched every time it flashed, but she wasn't about to let go of the saddle or reins to cover her ears. The thunder was just as loud as the lightning was bright, and every time it cut loose she felt the ground shake beneath her horse, and the sheer pressure of those decibels hurt her eardrums. Her mount normally liked storms, but this one had him worried too, she could tell by the way he carried himself. He was racing along in a swift and steady canter, heading straight to the warm stable and thorough brushing he knew awaited him at the barn. They had traveled these forest trails so much together they knew them all by heart, and he needed no light to see by. He knew exactly where every little rut and dip was.

The girl had been trying to estimate where they were ever since it got too dark to see, but it was difficult. The lightning provided light, but the rain that poured into her eyes without stopping made everything seem blurry and surreal.

_'Mother's probably pacing the floor right now,'_ she thought as yet another boom of thunder made her flinch and grip the leather tighter, noticing uneasily how wet and slick it had gotten.

_'I'm on my way, Momma, I'm on my. . .'_

**CRASH!**

The entire forest filled with a bright, blazing white aura as a blast of lightning came down and struck a tree by the trail, only a few dozen yards ahead of them. The tree lit up from the inside with a white, then purplish wave of light, before bursting into flames that snarled angrily, trying to burn anything in reach as the rain instantly began extinguishing it.

Both horse and rider screamed in terror, the galloping horse sliding to a halt on the muddy, soppy track, his eyes rolling. The girl was nearly unseated, her ears ringing and an odd numbness creeping over her head as her mount thrashed about in the mud, regaining his footing. The reins began to slip between her fingers as he half-reared and flailed wildly. . .

**BOOM!**

The blast of thunder that followed not even a moment after the strike shattered any false hope she may have had of regaining control of her terrified horse. He reared and lunged like one possessed and only her years of experience in the saddle prevented her from coming off. The world had lost all meaning to her dazed, panicked mind. the only thing of any importance at all was hanging onto the saddle.

Branches slapped her face hard, nearly throwing her off again as she grabbed desperately at the soaked saddlehorn and clung to the leather for all she was worth. Holding on was all that made any sense right now, and somewhere in her panicked, barely conscious thoughts she realized they were off the trail, traveling at breakneck speed in uncharted territory, and she had lost her reins.

She went to search for them in the dark but her horse jolted hard and nearly unseated her again, and she gripped the horn with both hands in a panic.

The image of her horse tripping over the reins and falling, throwing her off into nothingness, possibly killing them both, was the only thing that made her reach out in the darkness to skim over the pitching mass of her horse's neck and mane to search again. Searching, searching, searching, all she felt was hide and hair. Her fingers came up the left side of his neck, then the right, feeling desperately.

And then she found the strap of leather between her fingers, resting precariously right behind her horse's crownpiece, his ears being the only thing that had prevented it from flying over his head.

The wave of relief that washed over her was immense, but unfortunately temporary as her mount stumbled over something in the darkness. He lurched forward violently and nearly went to his knees, a small sapling tree giving to his massive plunge being the only thing that kept him from going down completely.

His rider effortlessly left the saddle behind and went airborne, flying up onto his neck, further unbalancing him.

As he thrashed about in the undergrowth in a panic the girl was tossed off his neck and came off completely. She gripped his mane with her left hand for all she was worth, clenching her right fist around the reins.

Another leap lifted her feet right off the ground and her skull collided with something rock hard, sending a sharp pain down the right side of her face, stemming from her forehead. She shouted at her panicked horse to calm down, trying to be heard above the wild storm, but she couldn't even hear herself.

He lunged forward again, ready to continue his mad dash, but she kept a firm pressure on his bit, turning him constantly to the right in a swift circle, her other hand still buried in his mane. She thought she spoke calming words to him, things she always told him when he got frightened, but she couldn't hear a word she said.

Come to think of it. . .she couldn't hear _anything_. She could see the lightning still slashing the sky to pieces and the thunder vibrating hard beneath her feet, the rain and bushes slapping her face as she continued to turn her horse in mad circles, but she couldn't hear them at all.

The horse finally slowed down to a walk, stepping on his rider's feet a couple times in the dark, earning a shout of pain from said rider, his sides heaving heavily. The whites of his eyes showed plainly in the flashes of lightning, wide with terror as he tried to shy away from another flash above his head.

Not daring to release either the mane or the reins, the girl took advantage of the moment when he was only shying and dancing in a relatively slow circle and used his mane to help pull herself back into the saddle after the lightning helped her see where the seat was. After finding her stirrups with her feet she loosened her horse's reins a little, knowing he would work himself into a frenzy if she made him stay still.

He nearly leaped forward but her firm hand on the reins only allowed him a swift trot, nothing more. She rubbed his neck and called softly to him in a reassuring manner as he fought his bits fearfully, before realizing for the third time that night that she still couldn't hear a single thing.

She rubbed her horse's neck and shoulder below his mane, staying low to the saddle as she felt a low-hanging branch scrape her back. Lightning flashed again, and after a few moments she thought she heard a soft rumble of thunder.

A soft swishing noise tickled lightly in her ears, and she rubbed them against her arms to make the irritating sound go away. After another moment or two it fleshed out into the sound of wind and very heavy rain.

_'I must have lost my hearing for a second when the lightning hit,'_ she realized, as the sounds of the raging storm came back to her now completely, like a closed door to a loud party being opened up.

After re-orientating herself she rubbed her horse's neck again, staying as low to the saddle as possible. Being off the trail in pitch darkness wasn't safe, but sitting up in the saddle would be downright stupid. A low-hanging limb would make short work of the connection she had recently restored with her horse, and she really didn't want to be left stranded out here.

"Its alright boy, its ok," she soothed as gently as she could, trying not to flinch when another flash lit up the sky and forest.

"Its ok. Just calm down."

Her horse didn't seem to be listening and jumped when thunder rumbled loudly through the air, but all the adrenaline and fear-crazed energy he had used up in a couple short minutes had taken its toll on the already tired animal, and he blew loudly through his nostrils in a resigned huff, flicking his ears back now to listen to his master. After another minute or two of letting him get the fear-kinks out of his muscles she lightly tightened his reins and asked him softly to walk.

Too exhausted to trot any more, and feeling his rider rub his neck in the soothing, encouraging way she had, he complied.

Now that she had the horse more or less calm and back under control, some of the tension she'd been holding in was released, and as the adrenaline left her body she was left trembling from exhaustion and a small drop of relief. They could very easily have been killed earlier, and she thanked her stars that nothing worse had happened. The area above her right eye still hurt quite a bit, and she guessed she had somehow hit her head against the horse's in the wild fracas.

Her feet throbbed where he had stepped on her, and when she shifted slightly in the stirrups for a more comfortable position, sparks of pain erupted from the joints, making her groan softly.

"I know you didn't mean it, but I'm going to have to think about that extra-long brushing I promised," she told him, rubbing his neck to take the sting out of her words.

"When we get home I might not be able to stand up!"

* * *

The storm raged on, as loud as before, but after all the previous excitement it didn't seem like such a problem. It sounded somehow muted and not quite so important, like the background hubbub at a public gathering.

The main problem was that now, in the middle of the night, with no light to speak of and in the pouring rain during a thunderstorm, the girl didn't have a clue where she was, or where her horse was taking her. She could only hope he was taking her home. Horses seemed to have a perfect retracing map inside their heads that enabled them to go home from any area they were. It didn't matter how far away. She envied him extremely at this moment, because she had lost track of everything when her horse had left the trail.

The horse walked along, exhaustion in every step, and tension in every stare he took all around him. He would gladly break into a faster pace again if it would get them home sooner, but his master had said no. . .he had a vague idea of where he was, and a part of him knew he was heading in the right direction. He just had to keep walking. . .

He stopped suddenly, his nostrils flaring as he raised his head with a little more vigor than before. Flicking his ears forward, he scanned the darkness and sniffed again, blowing it out firmly to keep the rainwater from going up his nose. He'd know that smell anywhere! Oats! And apples! He turned himself here and there, trying to pinpoint where it was coming from. . .but it came from a different direction than where his internal compass pointed. He paused. Which one to take? After a moment he turned to the left and started off to the direction of the scent. Where there was food, there would be warmth and blankets for he and his rider both.

Home could wait.

* * *

Her horse had changed directions quite a ways back, and she hadn't hindered him, figuring that he knew where they were going better than she did. The wind and rain suddenly struck against them even harder than before, nearly blowing them off balance with the force of it, and after a moment the girl realized they weren't in the woods anymore. Rather, they were in what appeared to be a meadow of some sort. Another bolt of lightning confirmed that they had left the trees behind. If they were in a meadow (that was the only place the girl could think of) the grass had been beaten completely flat by the pounding rain, and the ground was very muddy and sucked at her horse's feet.

Straightening in the saddle, groaning again as her feet protested, she gave him a sympathetic shoulder scratch, feeling how exhausted the poor animal was.

_'When we get home, your getting an extra apple,'_ she thought.

_'You deserve it.'_

It was impossible to tell how much time had passed, but after a time she felt the ground beneath her horse change after a while from flatland to something else. An experienced rider can tell many things by the horse's movement, including where they're walking. After concentrating a moment, she realized it felt almost felt like. . .

_'Cobblestones?'_

She thought in confusion.

_'There's no cobblestones or anything like them way out here in the middle of nowhere. But, then again, I don't even know where "Here" is.'_

A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the sky again, and she caught a glimpse of some sort of structure up ahead. Another flash confirmed that there really was something there, and the next one made her gasp and pull up her horse in shock.

Outlined and accented by the near-constant lightning, standing tall against the sky. . .was a castle. It loomed over them like a behemoth, and she felt herself shrink to her horse as the stone mass leered down at her. It was so. . .huge! She was struck by its sheer size. And the fearful aura it gave off accented that.

The storm did not help.

_'Where AM I?'_ The girl thought, utterly baffled and a little bit afraid. _ 'The only castle I know is the royal family's back in the city, and this is definitely not it.'_

She rubbed her horse's neck for comfort as she thought to herself, no longer wanting to speak out loud for some reason,_ 'WHERE in the name of Orion did you TAKE us, boy? This is. . .crazy. . .'_

The horse, having taken in everything he wanted to see, pulled his bit again, telling his rider he wanted to keep going. The smell of the food was getting stronger, and his exhaustion and hunger had worn him down. The place did feel unusual, but first things came first. And the first things were food and warmth. For both of them.

Too tired to really argue with her mount, and trusting him, she let him walk on. After several more moments of staring wide-eyed up at the towering piece of architecture the rain had filled her eyes completely and she was forced to look at the ground, blinking hard. As lightning flashed she could tell that it was indeed cobblestones her horse had been walking on, and they were heading over a wide wooden drawbridge. There was nothing but darkness off to the side and she could guess it was a long way down to the moat.

_'This is like a dream,'_ she thought in a mixture of awe and confusion. _'Nowhere around here has a castle except the big city, and its impossible this is the royal family's. Where in the world am I?'_

The horse hit cobblestones again, and the girl assumed it was the courtyard, between the flashes of lightning and the position of the castle directly overhead now, which now looked even creepier up close. Her horse, after pausing another moment, walked further down the courtyard, staying alert. His rider's anxiety had made him a bit wary, and he watched the shadows carefully.

Straining her eyes, the girl thought she saw something up ahead. Something vaguely bright. Guiding her exhausted mount toward it, she realized after a moment she was looking at a light. A light through an open door, throwing a yellow pool onto the cobblestones nearby, catching every droplet of water in its glow and illuminating them in flattering embellishment.

Without even double-thinking, they both headed straight for it.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

* * *

The immense relief of finally being out of the wild storm and being able to breathe normally again made the strange place they were in not feel so completely unnerving. The girl barely noticed as the stable doors swung silently shut behind her and her mount.

For a moment or two they both just stayed there in the cobblestone hall of the stable, in a sort of exhausted daze, blinking rain from their eyes, as the water ran down their bodies in little rivers, pooling on the stone. The storm wasn't so loud from in here. It seemed rather distant.

The girl finally dismounted, slowly. . .grunting slightly in pain as her bruised feet hit the ground, and her horse blew loudly through his nose, scenting the air warily. With one hand on her horse's mane to help hold herself up, she limped down the hall leading him, leaving dark little puddles everywhere.

There was a lantern. . .two, rather. . .hanging from each side of the hall, right beside a large stall that looked like it had been prepared only a few moments ago. The straw on the floor was thick and deep, perfect for taking the strain off her exhausted horse's legs, with a bucket of water in the corner and the hayrack filled to the brim with what looked like perfectly cured grass hay. And judging by the sweet scent hanging in the air, it was wild hay. The type all brush farmers in Prydain (her own family included) used for their stock and arguably the best around. The kind her mount liked best.

Her horse immediately started toward it but she pulled him back, making him blow angrily.

"I'm sorry, boy, but I've got to get you out of that soaking equipment and get you dried off,"

The girl murmured softly to him, making him flick his ears back to listen. With a soft snort he followed her to the hitching post a few feet down the hall, where he stood quietly, ground-tied, as her freezing, stiff fingers fought bitterly with the slippery leather. It took nearly twice as long for her than it usually did to get the saddle and accessories off and lay them on an equipment rack that had seemingly appeared from nowhere in the room beside her. She guessed it was the tackroom, judging by the various leather repairing kits and all types of cleaning solutions lined up on the shelves in neat rows.

The barn was warm, not allowing any harsh wind or rain to come in, but she was still shivering in cold from the wet clothes sticking to her body as she tossed a large towel over her shoulder and grabbed the grooming kit sitting on the tackroom table and went back into the hall. Her horse was still where she'd left him, looking exhausted. But there was something in his eyes that suddenly made her skin crawl.

Her horse's head was up, staring deep into the shadows the lanterns cast in the far ends of the barn, breathing deeply in and out, snorting softly as his ears swiveled everywhere, straining to catch anything that moved. He turned his head briefly to acknowledge her presence as she limped up to him, before returning his attention to the shadows. She had not left him him like this. The girl's chest tightened fearfully and she touched her horse's shoulder for comfort as she gripped the handle of the small grooming chest.

_'Someone else is in here!'_

She thought, trying to keep her panic to a minimum. Images flashed through her head of monsters hiding in the darkness, just waiting for her to turn her back on them. She fought down a shudder. Her mother always told her never to read scary stories after dark, and now she regretted those late-night reading parties she had held with the animals in the barn with a lantern back at home. Her horse had always been there to comfort her if she got scared of her own imagination, but this was not a book. This was very real, and the girl realized with a jolt that it was almost as if she had been _expected_ here.

The freshly prepared stall, complete with her mount's favorite hay, the equipment racks, grooming equipment. . .the towel. She had been so drugged by exhaustion and relief at finding a dry place for the night she hadn't given any of it a second thought.

_'They knew I was coming!'_ She thought fearfully. _ 'I was expected!'_

The scenario she had found herself in suddenly seemed very familiar. Getting lost at night, coming to a strange place where she was seemingly expected, she remembered this story and she did not like the ending, where the unfortunate traveler got their blood drained from them. . .

_'Stop! Its only your imagination, don't panic!'_

Her mind told her, and she fought to keep from losing it then and there.

_'Your only imagining things, you've been reading too many books, you *must* calm down and think rationally!'_

_'I *AM* thinking rationally!'_

She mentally screamed at herself. Suddenly, the idea of saddling the horse straight back up and heading back out in the storm again to fight her way home in it didn't seem like such a bad idea at all.

A loud boom of thunder outside made she and her horse both jump. Glancing at his face, the girl noticed again how completely exhausted he was. She couldn't ask him to travel anymore, especially not now. It would not be fair, after teasing him with the prospect of rest. She knew he would go for her till he dropped, and he looked to be on the verge of it now. Despite his alertness, there was exhaustion in every move he made.

_'I can't treat my friend that way,'_ she thought. _ 'He's worn out. I have to stay, for his sake. We'll leave first thing in the morning.'_

Taking a deep breath, she tried to calm her thoughts. This could easily all be just a big coincidence her own consciousness had made up. For all she knew, whoever owned this place was waiting on someone else to come back, and someone had laid out everything she was now taking advantage of. The servants were probably so startled to see a complete stranger walk in instead of the person they were expecting that they had all hid, fearing the worst. They were probably more afraid of her than anything. Yes, that was a completely logical explanation. Swallowing nervously, she spoke to the shadows.

"Hello?"

She called, wishing her voice didn't sound so loud in the abnormally quiet building. Hearing nothing, but sensing the tension in the room build, she tried again.

"I'm. . .truly sorry to crash in on you like this, but I got lost in the storm and I don't know where I am."

She tried not to cringe at how painfully pathetic her voice sounded.

"My horse is exhausted and can't go on right now. I truly didn't meant to intrude, but I don't have anywhere else to go and I need a place to rest for the night. I hope you didn't mean these things for someone else that will need them. (here she gestured weakly at the stall and things in her hand with her free one) "I-I promise to leave first thing in the morning."

There was still no reply, but for some reason the silence didn't seem so agitated as before. Her horse had relaxed considerably since she started talking, and now he nuzzled the box in her hands. Rubbing his face with her free hand, she carefully set the box down and selected a sweat-scraper.

After staring at the shadows a bit longer, she held her breath and turned her back on them. After a few moments of working the water out of her horse's coat she slowly relaxed, figuring that if they were going to attack her they would have done so already.

Turning her full attention back to her horse, who seemed happier now that she was working on him, she used the flat piece of metal brush to squeeze the excess rain water out of his coat. He had always been a glossy, beautiful horse, but soaking wet in the lantern light made him practically glow with all the radiance of black Cassiterite, the bright silver sheen over his coat reflecting the light even more, making him resemble an earthbound star.

The girl smiled as she tossed the scraper back in the box and used a wide-toothed comb to tackle the rat's nest of thick, lacquer-black mane that fell to the bottom of the horse's wide chest. Starting at the ends she carefully worked the knots loose and combed her way up, working out burrs and twigs that had gotten snagged in it over the course of the night. The horse cocked a hind leg in contentment, enjoying the attention he was getting.

After several long minutes she had combed it all out and squeezed what little excess water remained out of it with the towel. It was already starting to dry and curling back to its original shape.

Pausing a minute to empty the comb of a thick black mustache-looking thing that had accumulated in its teeth, the girl took a moment to glance around the stable some more. It seemed to be intended for an awful lot of horses. (_'But then again, what royal stable isn't?'_ She thought to herself.) The hall was very long and wide, with stalls and other rooms branching off it as far back as the light allowed her to see. There was a ladder a little ways down, no doubt leading to the loft, but other than that, nothing more.

Tossing the matt of hair to the floor, she ran her hand firmly down her horse's back and over his rump, murmuring a soft word to him before scooping up a fistful of his tail and pulling it to the side in standard procedure, before beginning to comb it out too. He had never kicked at her before while she did this, but it paid to be cautious, regardless. Particularly in a strange place in the middle of a thunderstorm in the dead of night with possibly who-knows-who-or-what watching you from every corner.

His tail took much longer than his mane, considering there was a lot more of it, and being long enough to generously brush the ground, was subject to more abuse. She praised him softly as she worked, letting him know she appreciated him behaving so well. She would have turned him in to eat already but he didn't like his mane, tail or legs being messed with while he ate. Frankly she didn't blame him.

The girl hummed softly to herself as she emptied the comb again and sponged and combed the mud, burrs and tangles out the thick black feather her horse sported around his feet. Even for one of his type, the feather was very long and thick and even harder to keep clean than his tail. Starting just below his knee and hock joints and brushing the ground, it required constant attention. She thanked her stars she had finally trained him out of trying to stomp the unlucky person assigned to groom his legs.

The combing finally finished, she used the damp towel to wring as much water as she could out of his tail and feather, although most of it was on the floor now instead of him. Getting the hoofpick she cleaned out his hooves and gave him a quick, thorough wipe-over with the soft brushes, making sure to clean all the places where the equipment sat and eliminate any dirty areas she may have missed. After easing the bridle out of his mouth, she gave a little extra time to his face, letting him close his eyes in contentment and rest his head lightly on her shoulder as she worked. Leaving him for a moment, she went back into the tackroom to dispose of the bridle, grooming box and now-soaked towel, stretching it over a rack to dry, before taking his mane and leading him gently to his stall.

"Alright boy, its supper-time. You've earned every bit of it," she told him.

His eyes lit up at the stall and he eagerly walked past her and into the deep straw, plunging his muzzle deep into the water bucket and taking huge gulps of the delicious liquid. Leaning against the doorframe she watched him, feeling more relaxed than she had all night.

After her horse had nearly emptied the large bucket of its clear contents he turned and found the trough full of oats, complete with apple slices. The girl limped over to him and checked the feed cautiously, but the oats were first rate. The apples were good too, and she popped a piece in her mouth that wasn't covered in horse drool.

That little action reminded her sharply of how hungry she was. Her stomach had been growling all night but she had ignored it, too busy with her horse to pay attention. But it reminded her now and she cringed when it grumbled again.

Something caught the corner of her vision and she jumped, turning quickly to see it. The door at the end of the barn, the same one she had entered through to escape the storm from, was standing wide open.

The girl suddenly felt very chilled. Whether it was the cool, damp night wind, or her wet clothing, her fear, or all three, she wasn't quite sure, but she knew that doors that sturdy didn't just open by themselves. As she stared into the blackness of the doorway, she suddenly realized she couldn't see any rain falling.

Limping cautiously to the door frame, she got just close enough to risk a peek outside. The night was pitch black, and there seemed to be nobody there, but her common sense told her otherwise.

Sure enough, it wasn't raining anymore at the moment, but the wind was hard as ever and she knew this was only a lull in the storm. Again, the urge to saddle up and take off again into the night before the storm hit again was nearly overwhelming, but she told herself that her horse was too tired to go any further tonight and she was too. This lull wouldn't last very long, anyway.

Suddenly, a light flickered in the darkness, way across the courtyard, dipping and bobbing in the wind. The girl cautiously watched it for a moment as the cold wind and her soaked clothing made her shake harder and rub her arms. Sitting next to a fire with a cup of hot tea sounded so good right now. . .she stared at the light, more out of absence than anything else, as it swung back and forth. If it was a servant coming to the barn they were really taking their time. Back and forth, back and forth, it looked almost like it was waving to her.

_'Waving. . .'_

She straightened up suddenly as a thought came to mind, watching the light more closely now. It wasn't moving in time to the wind gusts. It was actually waving _at_ her. She suddenly felt something, almost like a voice on the wind, calling her. It wasn't exactly audible but she got the same feeling as she had before when she felt someone in the stable with her. They wanted her to follow them. And she wasn't sure it was a good idea.

She uncertainly looked back into the barn, and then back to the light. A light drizzle of rain splashed her arms and face, and she made up her mind. Limping back inside, she grabbed her saddlebags and a lantern, blowing the other one out. Her horse looked up from his oats as she passed his stall and pricked his ears at her. With her free hand she rubbed his muzzle gently.

"Well boy," she said softly, "I really don't want to leave you, but I really need to get warm before I catch a cold. They want me to go to the castle. Hopefully to get warm. If I don't come back in the morning you know what to do."

She brushed his thick forelock out of his eyes and kissed his nose, before reluctantly walking to the door. As she turned to shut it, she saw her horse's head anxiously watching her disappear.

"Its alright, Mitternacht, I'll see you in the morning."

She reassured him, before shutting the door. Trying to fight down the sudden uneasiness she felt at the sensation of a wall between them, she headed toward the swinging light as the thunder rumbled ominously.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

* * *

He hated rain. It was cold and wet and uncomfortable, and if you were out in the open there was no escaping it. It would find a way to get you. Even roofs could not always hold it at bay. It had a habit of being able to slip and slide in everywhere and anywhere, and turn the most beautiful day dull and gloomy.

And he hated rain even more when it brought its friends out to play. Thunder and lightning could take something as peaceful as a simple dream and instantly morph it into a Hellish nightmare when the storms came out to play. He would jerk himself from slumber, gasping in terror from them, only to wake to another one, from which he could never escape no matter how often he tried.

Normally he would have been sleeping at this hour, but the storm made him shove aside any thoughts of rest, although his body and his mind craved it dearly.

He could not, should not, and would not sleep while the tempest roared outside the castle, waiting for him to let his guard down. He might be tired, but sleep was not worth the torment that awaited him in his nightmares. Not by a long shot.

Creeper walked slowly through the castle's dim hallways, the spaced out torches on the walls igniting ahead of him to light his aimless stroll, and a few moments after he passed them, flicker out with a whiff of smoke.

Almost immediately after he had returned, he had became aware of something different. The castle was not entirely as he remembered it. The moth-eaten, frayed curtains were still there, as was a handful of broken-down places in the walls with vines and elements coming in, and the cobwebs, but the halls and many of the rooms looked as if they had been swept and dusted over.

New furniture seemingly appeared out of thin air, torches lit and extinguished themselves, fires were in the fireplaces, strange voices could occasionally be heard conversing with his master, and the castle's spider population had plummeted drastically. Creeper hadn't seen hide nor hair of the eight-legged creatures in weeks, save for the massive cobwebs that still hung in odd places.

The castle was actually taking on the appearance of being lived in, and used for more than just a lair for evil men to plot and undead creatures to hide away in. A kitchen had appeared on one of the lower levels too, so Creeper didn't have to worry about starving. He could eat in peace to his heart's content if he so chose.

Another thing that was different was the silence. It was so foreign. He was used to it being loud with the Horned King's men, who frequently drank and fought amongst themselves, but the un-natural silence now was a little unsettling. Especially when his Master made next to no noise. You would never hear him til it was too late. Creeper shuddered at the thought. No one was here except his Master and himself now. And the gwythaint.

With nothing else to interest him, Creeper spent most of his time with the dragon in one of the stables. It was only a beast, but it gave him something to do. He let it out of the barn for daily flights, making sure it stuck close to the castle in case any pesky humans were nearby. Hardly a threat, but still. . .the gwythaint enjoyed the exercise, and he greatly preferred the company of the creature over his Master's anyway.

He had no idea how his Master was back. It made no sense. He had watched him get ripped to pieces, consumed by the Cauldron and the castle destroyed with his own two eyes. And then, a month later the gwythaint that had escaped with him decides to return for some reason, and the whole thing is nearly exactly as it had been before the Pig-Keeper came.

And Creeper's misery was now double-fold, having experienced the exhilaration of freedom, only to have it yanked away from him and have himself thrown back into the servitude of the Horned King, as if nothing had ever changed and his brief days of freedom had been nothing but a dream.

He thought occasionally about the Pig-Boy, wondering what he was up to now. He knew his master well enough to know without a sliver of a doubt, the hatred he held for that boy knew no bounds, and no doubt he would lure the boy here eventually and even the score between them.

Creeper allowed a sick little grin to spread across his face. He would so enjoy watching his master kill the boy. After seeing the shock on his dying face. That Pig-Keeper had brought the little goblin nothing but grief, and he didn't much care who made him pay, as long as he got to see the action.

His master had not called on the goblin to do much of anything since he had returned, except keep out of his way. Which mostly meant to stay out of his sight. His master seemed to be in a brooding rage most of the time lately, and Creeper was more than happy to remain invisible.

As he ambled toward the ground floor, he remembered the fireplace that now sat on the side of the large room by the massive double doors leading to the outside courtyard. He felt chilled and damp, and sitting by the fireplace seemed like a good idea. It could never help the cold feeling in his chest, (he had tried it already) but it made him feel a little better.

With a little more spring to his step, he skipped around the corner and prepared to bounce down the stairs, when one of the great doors came open and a figure stumbled inside.

* * *

Creeper, well hidden by the thick shadow that blanketed the steps, had stared in complete shock for nearly three full minutes at the figure now standing by the fire rubbing its hands together, before he started to stare in complete panic. If he told his Master he'd be furious. And if he didn't tell him. . .

Creeper shivered violently at the prospect of both. Go to his Master now and get punished, or not tell him. . .and pray the human left immediately. If he opted to carry out his first thought and fetch his Master, every second wasted would only make for a greater punishment. He had to admit to himself though, seeing someone else be at his Master's mercy did hold a great deal of appeal to the goblin (here he smirked at the thought) but if there was a chance the human would leave quickly then there would be no reason to tell him anything, and although there wouldn't be any action with this option, there wouldn't be any potential punishment either. His Master had ignored him for the most part the last several days, which was rare, and the goblin didn't want to break the chain of good luck he'd been granted.

Rubbing his throat tenderly, he decided on an awesome plan.

_'I'll just scare the human off!'_ He thought.

_'Yes, genius! Utter genius! Master will be so pleased I ran it off all by myself! But what if he's not? What if he wanted it to stay?'_

He wrinkled his brow in frustrated confusion. After his years of being under the Horned King he had learned that what he thought he should do in a situation always seemed to be the opposite of what his Master really wanted him to do and usually ended up with him getting beaten. Biting back a whimper he shook as he thought this out.

_'My first plan was to fetch him, so that must be wrong. If I did he'd probably be angry that I couldn't handle a simple problem like this by myself. He never wants to be disturbed unless its good news, and this isn't exactly good.'_

He scratched his head, determined to figure out his Master's way of thinking.

_'So, if the first plan's wrong, the second one must be right. I'll scare the human off! Master's in his chambers and he won't hear a thing!'_

The goblin nearly cackled out loud at his own cleverness before wrinkling his brow again in thought.

_'But how?'_

He looked around himself fruitlessly, searching for anything he could use. He wasn't exactly afraid to tackle the human with his bare hands, but humans were a lot bigger than him and if it ever got a good grip on him it would be over.

He tiptoed slowly up the stairs, keeping one eye on the human, looking for anything he could use. Suddenly, to his immense relief and delight, he spied a broom propped up against the staircase, as if it had been left in a hurry. A mostly-empty serving trolley (no doubt on its way to the kitchen) sat beside it.

* * *

Nearly twenty minutes of working with bated breath and watching the human down below later, he stood back to glance over his work.

The handle end of the broom now sported a cluster of forks and butter-knives glinting maliciously in the firelight, tied tightly on with at least three napkins and half the broom bristles. The other half of said bristles were scattered all over the floor from the multiple times they had broken when he tried to knot them. What used to be the broom's bristle-end now resembled a badly plucked chicken. What little straw was left spiked madly in every direction like an angry cat.

The fine china dishes that Creeper had neatly (And very cautiously) stacked up on one end of the trolley consisted of five plates, no two the same size, three goblets and a wine glass.

Plus the teapot.

And the sugar bowl.

Creeper didn't even think about why these items were all laid out together, but they would suit his need perfectly. Grinning madly, he carefully wheeled the trolley through the shadows to the top of the stairs, positioning it on the very edge of the plunge. Biting back a cackle for all he was worth, he scurried back to retrieve the upgraded cleaning tool lying on the floor and made his way back to the trolley, careful not to let the broom hit the stone floor and give everything away.

Carefully climbing up the stair rails and slowly lowering himself on top of the trolley, Creeper fixed his grip on the broom handle and looked down. The stairs suddenly looked much longer and steeper than they had before.

Much, much longer.

Creeper suddenly didn't like this idea so much. His palms were sweating and he was trembling as the nervous jitters started making him rethink everything he was about to do. So many things could go wrong. . .and if he failed, his Master would not be pleased. . .

Creeper shivered at the thought.

_'Maybe th-this wasn't such a goo-good i-i-d-d-ea. . .maybe I should just go get Master anyway. . .'_

Creeper's nose twitched and suddenly tickled. He had wanted to get warm earlier, but having changed his mind, his nose had apparently lost patience and decided to take care of matters itself. He felt his chest constrict slightly, and his eyes bulged as he realized what was fixing to happen.

_'Oh, no, not a sneeze!'_

"Ah. . .ah. . ."

He held his precious broom-weapon with one hand and tried to hold off his doom with the other, covering his nose and mouth in a feeble attempt to prevent nature from taking its course.

"Ah. . .ah. . .ha. . ."

His attempts were now making the trolley roll back and forth on its wheels, a hair's breadth from the edge. And his breaths were getting louder.

"Ah, Ah, Ah. . ."

He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it. Waving the broom around for balance, he attempted to dismount from the trolley so he could set the broom down and use both hands to shield the next blast, but he never got the chance.

"AAAACHOOOOOOOO!"

And then many things happened all at once. The sound of his sneeze echoed off every wall for yards around, the force of it threw him off balance enough to make the trolley roll forward the hair's breadth it was missing to tip downward, and he gripped it in a panic as the front wheels hit the first step.

_'NOOO!'_ He thought in terror as the steps loomed up below him. _'I'm not ready yet!'_

The trolley, having been given a little shove, was more than happy to go the rest of the way and the front wheels hit the second step cheerfully, jolting Creeper further off balance. The dishes rattled a warning as the trolley's front wheels hit the third step down.

Creeper's eyes bulged in panic as he managed to right himself on the cart again, still clutching the broom-thing with one hand. He made a wild grab for the stack of chinaware and missed as the trolley's front wheels hit step number four.

Now the back wheels hit the first step, and the goblin realized he was past the point of no return, and no amount of wishing would put the trolley back on the level ground he had started from.

The trolley, now free from the bindings of a completely flat surface, picked up speed with the back wheels loosed as well and the front wheels smashed into step number six like it had said something offensive.

The smart thing to do at this point would be to bail off immediately before he was seen, but Creeper wasn't thinking. His mind had gone blank in horror back on step number three, and all he could do was numbly grip the trolley as they descended, staring with bulging eyes at his destination.

Suddenly, something grabbed Creeper by his shoulders from behind, yanking him loose from the trolley and making him drop the broom, which he had clung to faithfully since the beginning. The trolley didn't seem to notice it had lost its jockey and continued on its merry way down the stairs, the dishes rattling ominously.

Creeper opened his mouth to yell in surprise but something covered his mouth to keep him silent. He instantly knew it wasn't his Master, but one of those invisible things that had started hanging around.

They both watched in horror as the trolley picked up speed, bouncing down the steps like a happy schoolgirl. The broom. . .or what was left of it, anyway. . .fell off the trolley on step number ten, and all of Creeper's hard work fell apart. Those napkins were so flimsy. . .

Some of the silverware, now freed from its bindings to the broomhandle, opted to rest on the steps, but most of the other pieces decided to race the trolley to the bottom and chased madly after it, doing end-over-end flips like silver gymnasts. The trolley decided it couldn't be bothered with the dishes anymore and started jarring them off with every step it cleared.

The dishes bellowed the Warcry of Fine China Everywhere as they rattled and crashed together multiple times before bailing off. The first one to go was the gallant teapot at step number fourteen. The smash of breaking china as it shattered into pieces was the deathbell for its remaining partners.

Now on step number twenty the trolley may as well have sprouted wings. Like a ship at sea it rode down the stairs like a madman, china smashing left and right as it surged toward ground level at an alarming rate. The silverware, determined not to be outdone, bounced down the stairs right behind it, some coming to rest on the steps, their momentum lost.

Creeper didn't even think to look at the human's reaction, all he could do was watch the flashing dishware fly gracefully through the air to shatter, almost in slow-motion, with the silverware dancing along and the trolley continuing on its merry way.

When it hit the ground floor Creeper estimated it was going at roughly the speed of a huge boulder that had been thrown off a mountain. It was flying.

Now on flat ground once again, the trolley could now thankfully, finally, coast to a stop. . .or it would have, if the rug hadn't been in the way. . .the material snagged the front wheels, tossing the trolley into the air like a toy. Determined not to go down so easily, the trolley's speed helped it as it flipped end over end across the floor, glinting in the firelight.

The grand finale was when it smashed straight into the wall right by the fireplace, before falling over onto its side with a groan. The final crash marked the end of the performance, as it lay there motionless, its wheels humming madly.

The complete silence that followed was nearly deafening. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Only stared at the destroyed trolley and the wake of destruction it had left.

Creeper gulped as the Invisible yanked him up and slid up the steps in the shadows, before sliding behind a door and into another hall. It was completely furious with him, and he blanched when it hissed softly in his ear.

"You can go fetch your Master. Now."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

* * *

The girl stood by the fire, holding her freezing hands out to the blaze, standing as close as possible to the dancing heat in an attempt to warm herself. A fresh blast of icy rain had drenched her when she spent a second too long staring fearfully at the frightening images carved into the huge castle doors. The lightning only made it worse, and she had hesitated just long enough to get thoroughly soaked again before the doors had came open and the gale had literally thrown her inside.

The room she was in was huge and sparsely lit, allowing the darkness to slip in and out of the light like a wraith, making creatures of the furniture that she did not dare to look at too long, for fear her imagination would overrun her thinking.

There was a torch by the door and three more scattered about the room, plus the fireplace. The lamps threw just enough light out to show her that there was a very large staircase behind her, leading to a balcony-like floor above, with probably many rooms and halls. There was also a door to her left on the opposite side of the room of the staircase, but she could make out little else. The only torches she could see were the ones in the room with her.

She had felt the prickling sensation of being watched the instant she had came through the door. The servant or whoever it was that had signaled to her with the lantern to come in was nowhere to be found, and the absence of people did nothing to help her nerves. She knew they were there, although how many she couldn't tell, but there was definitely more than one. She didn't understand why they didn't show themselves. Surely they didn't think she, of all people, was a threat. She had whispered a thank you through chattering teeth to them when she had approached the fireplace, but she had received no reply.

The fire crackled, making her jump slightly. Although she could hardly see anything in the half-light, her ears were mercifully back in perfect working condition, from what she could tell, and the only thing she could hear was the fire snapping softly to itself. She let out a soft breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and crept an inch or two closer to the fire, shivering. She prayed she wouldn't catch her death of cold, standing here in soaked clothes. She longed for dry ones but did not dare to speak it out loud. They had provided the best place possible for her mount to spend the night, and she could see he would want for nothing tonight. He was probably finishing the oats and diving straight into the hay right now. She smiled at the thought of him getting a well-deserved rest.

There was a couch a few feet behind her that she could have sworn _beckoned_ to her when she passed it, but her mother had taught her never to sit on furniture when you were dirty or wet. It was rude, and she didn't wish to anger whoever lived here or show ingratitude.

The feeling was finally back in her hands, and she sighed softly as she wiggled her fingers in the warmth. Since she had left her horse, and even with being stared at by people that hid from her, she finally felt a little more relaxed. The warmth no doubt had something to do with it.

She was so tired. . .she had had a very hard day, an even harder night, and it didn't look like it was getting much better. The heat was putting her to sleep, but her soaked clothes were just cold enough to keep her awake in a sort of stupor, unintentionally blocking out everything but the immediate.

At the same time she knew she had to keep her guard up, especially in a strange place that was obviously lived in but seemingly deserted, but the more she strained against the chain of cold that twined around her body the tighter it got, making her inch closer to the blaze for comfort, only to have it lull her deeper into a sort of trance, as she watched the dancing flames blankly.

If she had not been so exhausted, so drained, she no doubt would have heard the slight noises coming from the top of the staircase. She would have heard the sharp wheeze of someone doing their best to keep bodily reflexes at bay, the faint sound of metal grinding softly against the stone floor, but she did not.

In the far distance of her consciousness, she thought she heard something, but her mind was having trouble sending signals.

It sounded like china dishes.

_'Is someone heading to the kitchen?' _She thought hazily. _'I wonder if they have hot tea here_. _Mother always makes hot tea when we get caught in the rain._ _She doesn't have china though. Only the rich people have that._'

Her panicked senses woke her mind up, shaking her awake as hard as they could. In the eighth of a second it took for her to completely realize there was a very loud noise coming from behind her and whip around in terror, nearly falling into the fire, the nightmare from above had already been unleashed.

She stared in shock and fear as a massive hunk of gleaming metal came barreling down the steps, glinting madly in the firelight. All manner of silverware spilled down the steps after it, as it unceremoniously kicked off dishes right and left, smashing them against the stone in a grand, bright display.

And it was getting faster.

And faster.

And FASTER!

It crashed down the steps like a bull elephant through an antique shop and hit the floor like an eagle in flight.

Until the front wheels of the monstrosity hit the edge of the large rug that covered the floor from the fireplace to halfway across the huge room.

It executed a perfect flip in midair, startling for something of its size and bulk, the momentum it had gained all the way down the staircase refusing to let it surrender immediately. With an almost brutish grace it flipped end over end across the floor, the metal groaning.

The girl fled from the fireplace in a panic as the monstrosity slammed into the right side of the hearth, back end up. It stayed there for what seemed like an eternity before, with a final, conquered groan, fell over on its side in the floor, the wheels humming like a nest of angry hornets.

The silence that resumed after the fracas was nearly deafening. The wary ease the girl had managed to work herself into was completely gone and she stared with huge eyes at the gleaming hunk of metal, the firelight reflecting eerily off it. Now that it had stopped moving she could see it was some sort of serving tray on wheels.

Or at least, that was what it _had _been.

She strained her eyes toward the staircase and balcony above it, searching for any sign of movement, any noise, anything. It was the same as before. Nothing. It was like there was no one there.

She stood there in the shadows for some time, till she started shivering hard again and was forced to creep back to the fire, in painfully plain view of anyone or anything that might be watching her still. She hated being in such a position. She wished more than ever that she had headed back to Dalben's instead of trying to get home before the storm hit. It was still crashing outside, worse than before.

_'If Mitternacht hadn't spooked at that lightning we wouldn't be here,' _she thought a bit irritably. _'But its more of my fault than his. I should've used my common sense instead of trying to race the storm home, but noooooo. . . .I had to be heroic. . .and now I'm stuck in the middle of who-knows-where in a creepy castle in the dead of night, in the middle of the worst storm Prydain has had in years, and for all I know its owned by trolls and ogres who's guests never come out again. When I get home Mother's going to kill me.'_

She stood with her back to the fire, watching the staircase now. Her insides were shaking violently, and it wasn't all from the cold. Her exhaustion and the warmth was lulling her again, and her hunger and freezing, soaked clothes made it so hard to think. . .her body and mind cried for rest, but she would not give in. Who knew how many more trolleys would come down those stairs again tonight, or something worse. She couldn't fall asleep.

Her legs wobbled violently, warning her she couldn't stand up much longer, but she gritted her teeth and stiffened her joints, flinching as tendrils of pain shot up her legs from the stomping her feet had received earlier.

Groggily she reached a hand up to her throbbing head to gingerly touch the place above her right eye where her horse's skull had hit her when she came off earlier. Wincing, she pulled her fingers back to see a thin film of red staining them.

Her eyes widened.


	12. Chapter 12

**I own nothing but my OC's and this story, all else goes to Lloyd Alexander and Disney unless otherwise noted.**

* * *

Chapter 12

The Horned King sat in the large, stone, throne-like chair in his private chambers, staring at the floor, deep in scheming thought. His thoughts were as dark as his expression, and the timid, tell-tale tapping of Creeper at his door did not raise his moral at all. He hadn't sent for the goblin! He glowered darkly at him as Creeper tiptoed fearfully into the room and stood, awaiting his master's permission to speak. An irritated arch of the brow was his go-ahead.

Creeper gulped. "S-S-Si-Sire," He whimpered, wringing his hands, "Th-there's a h-hu-human here."

The pause that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife.

The Horned King never showed emotion. Under any circumstances. Completely calm, composed and icy at all times, even when his plans didn't work out, he always kept himself tightly in check. Being undead helped with that. Creeper could count on one hand the total amount of times when his master had ever shown any feeling well enough for anyone to notice unless they really looked. All of those outbursts in the past had been brought on by the Pig-Keeper.

And this was number four.

The shock on his Master's face would have been laughable if Creeper had been in the position to do so, but he was too frightened to get any enjoyment out of his master's surprise.

"What?"

The Horned King hissed, enough shock and anger mixed together in that single syllable to fell an army. His claws dug into the chair's stone arms as he stared at his servant.

Creeper flinched, putting his hands over his face. "A human, S-Sire. D-d-downstairs, by the fire. . ."

The Horned King rose from his seat, his eyes boring into his slave's face, searching for signs of a lie. The goblin had never been dishonest with him in the past. . .Fear of his master had always compelled him to tell the truth. . .but since his return he didn't put as much stock in his minions as he had before. Even previous to his demise his expectations had been rather low.

The goblin cowered in terror as his Master got up, but was saved by a tap on the door.

The Horned King growled softly as a presence briskly entered the room, the door swinging open.

"Sire, it seems the storm outside has blown a human in downstairs, and she needs a place to spend the night."

The Horned King stared at the place the voice was coming from, although he couldn't see the Invisible. A soft snarl was his answer.

"See that it does not leave alive."

The Invisible seemed prepared for this order, as it answered a bit too quickly for the Horned King's liking.

"As you know, Your Highness, we cannot harm anything while in your servitude, nor can we _help_ you harm anyone. That was the rule. However, we cannot stop you if you wish to deal with the human yourself."

The Horned King gave the wall a death glare where he knew the Invisible to be and fancied he heard a soft chuckle. These servants were of little use, and the only reason he could think of that they were here was more punishment from the Fates. They were the most irritating thorns in his side, especially since he couldn't harm them and they had absolutely no fear of him, making it all the more frustrating. Their arrogance reminded him of that blasted Pig-Keeper, their sarcasm only worsened it, and annoying him seemed to be the highlight of their days.

He gave a soft snarl and exited his chambers, hearing the goblin scamper out as the Invisible shut the door behind them.

The Horned King traveled down the steps at a slightly faster pace than his usually slow and deliberate stride. Taking out all his frustrations on the unfortunate soul downstairs would be an enjoyable experience. He hadn't killed anything since his return, and simply choking Creeper wasn't quite enough to ease the fury bubbling almost constantly inside him. He bared his fangs softly at the thought of something new to take his rage out on, something to drain the life from. . .the pupils in his eyes were tiny pinpricks of red in anticipation.

* * *

The goblin's relief had known no bounds when the Invisible had walked in the door, taking his Master's attention away from him. He thought his legs would collapse in relief as he trotted down the stairs after his Master. He would look forward to seeing something else suffer instead of himself. Finally! It had been too long as it was. He grinned to himself as he descended. It seemed he had, for once, came out on the upper hand of it all.

The Horned King made sure he did not let his boots tap against the stone hard enough to make noticeable noise as he carefully pushed the door open that led to the balcony overlooking the fireplace where the human stood. He knew that the Invisibles would not help him capture the human, and Creeper would be no help at all. He was doing this alone. He could hardly contain his excitement, but patience was a virtue, after all.

_'Patience, patience,' _he thought to himself as he looked over the balcony at the figure standing by the fireplace. _'Don't want to make any noise and scare it off.'_

He studied the figure, but as far away as he was it was difficult to make out anything.

_'No matter,' _he thought. _'I can look all I want when I'm choking the life out of her.'_

The Horned King paused in his inner monologue. _'Her?'_

He narrowed his eyes. Yes, it was indeed a female. He recalled that the Invisible had called the intruder a 'she' when explaining the situation. He hadn't bothered to take notice until now. As far as he was concerned all humans were the same. . .pathetic, weak, expendable, easily manipulated, mortal. . .the list went on.

Staying in the shadows on the balcony, he walked around to the staircase to silently descend on his unsuspecting victim and stopped dead in surprise at the scene that met him.

All manner of silverware and what had used to be the finest of china dishes lay in random piles and pieces all the way down the staircase. Not one step was empty of the mess. The Horned King's face twisted into a silent snarl of confusion and disbelief. His eyes went on down the stairs to see the rug piled up on the side near the staircase in a lump, and there by the hearth lay the reason for it all. The dented, twisted remains of a large serving trolley lay on its side on the floor, the firelight shining off the metal, and the Horned King fancied there might be an indention in the mortared wall as well.

He stared at it, completely motionless, thinking.

His Invisible servants were annoying beyond measure, but they prided themselves in their work more than anything. The ability to be impeccable at their duties. Meals were always served exactly on time, the torches were always lit and snuffed accordingly, and everything they did they made sure it was nothing short of perfection.

This was not their doing.

Then the pieces fit. He had known that pathetic goblin hadn't told him everything! Silently seething, he turned and quietly walked back through the door he'd came, beckoning at the goblin to follow him. Shivering in dread, the pathetic creature obeyed.

The instant the Invisible closed the massive, thick door behind them the Horned King's hand was around the goblin's throat before he could start babbling excuses and had brought his slave to a little below eye level to him.

In a hiss so soft it could hardly be heard, the Horned King snarled,

"WHAT did you DO?"

The goblin gagged and tried to breathe. "N-nothing, Sire!" he cried in panic. "I was going to scare it off to please you and-Ack!"

The Horned King gripped him tighter in a rage. "Without my _Permission?_"

The goblin choked and fought for air, "I'm sorry, Master! Ock!"

"Did the human see you?" His master demanded.

"Ack! No, Sire!" The goblin was nearly sobbing in pain by this point.

Reluctantly, the Horned King dropped the goblin. He snarled at the creature to get out of his sight. His slave did so quickly, running back into the depths of the castle. If the human had not seen the goblin he could still sneak up on her without the slightest problem. He had done it so many times before. . .As he turned to head back out again a voice stopped him.

"Begging Your Highness's greatest pardon," The Invisible spoke a bit sarcastically, "But I will remind you that you have seventeen moons remaining in this grace period you've been granted, and that is not long. You know the requirements and the stipulation the Fates require of you."

The Horned King snarled in fury. "Silence, _Slave."_

He bit out that last word as much as possible to make sure the Invisible knew what he thought of it, "I will not be the Fates' plaything for them to watch so haughtily. Their terms were impossible. I know it, you know it, and they know it. I may be forced to return to the Cauldron, but I will not do so begging for mercy! The Fates can find their twisted pleasure somewhere else. I may have failed at ultimate power, I may have failed with the Cauldron, my undead army and the rest, but when they send me back to. . ._him_. . ."

The Horned King shuddered as a wave of terror and remembrance washed over him, "I will be consoled in the knowledge that I was not fooled into failing again, for something like lo. . .something so useless."

He refused to say that word out loud.

"If nothing else, I will still have my pride."

This was the first verbal outburst the Horned King had uttered since his death, and he nearly regretted saying it, in front of the servants that had been assigned to him by the Fates themselves. It was not their place to know what was going on inside his head! But he had spilled, and he couldn't retract those words now. He couldn't even kill the servant so his outburst would remain secret.

The brief pause that followed was leaden, and he inwardly cursed himself for snapping like that. Where was his composure that only the most infuriating of circumstances could chip? It was one of the most dangerous weaknesses one could have, letting their guard down and their feelings out like that, out in the open where they could be crushed, mauled and betrayed. Granted, this was an extremely infuriating moment, but still no excuse.

The Invisible answered quietly, and for once there was no arrogance or sarcasm in the voice that came seemingly out of nowhere.

"If you never try, then you'll never know, Your Highness. You may have failed at everything you sought in the past, but this is literally a new beginning, your soul being handed to you on a silver platter, and if you throw it away for nothing but pride because you were afraid of failing again then you are nothing but a coward."

The Invisible's voice hardened as the Horned King snarled softly in anger.

"You were sent back for a reason, Horned King. You have been given a chance no other soul in the Cauldron has EVER been granted, a chance to redeem yourself. If you refuse to humble yourself and take that chance it will not be the Fates fault. They have given you control of your own fate for a time, and if you are too filled with hatred to do anything to try and change it then you have doomed your own soul to the everlasting Hell that awaits you inside the Black Cauldron."

The Horned King hissed in rage at his servant and whipped out the door back toward the balcony, but he still caught the parting words of the Invisible.

"You will have doomed yourself."


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The Horned King stared down at the girl over the balcony railing, well hidden by the shadows. He was so completely still he might have passed for a statue, but his mind was a raging storm of emotion and thoughts that couldn't even string together to form a grammatically complete sentence. He kept hearing the thoughts he had processed over the past few weeks, the words he had said, mingled together with the voices of his Invisible Servants as they argued with him. He knew he had to kill this girl, or all of Prydain would know of his return, but the words his Invisible Servants had told him over the last couple weeks kept him immobile.

_'The human must die,' _He snarled silently at the voices in his head.

_'You must earn someone's love. . .' _The Invisibles nearly sang to him.

_'I am heartless and therefore hopeless. . .'_

'O_r suffer for all time. . .'_

_'. . .This task is impossible. . .'_

_'. . .Are you willing to try?'_

_'. . .I will still have my pride. . .'_

_'. . .This is your only chance. . .'_

_'. . .perhaps if I possessed any hope. . .'_

_'. . .Don't let it pass you by. . .'_

_'. . .But false hope is nothing but lies. . .'_

_'. . .You hold your own Fate in your hands. . .'_

_'. . .I cannot feel anyhow. . .'_

_'. . .Could be a new beginning. . .'_

_'. . .I am a monster, not a man. . .'_

_'. . .No other soul has ever been freed from the Cauldron, til now. . .'_

_'. . .Its now or leave it to chance. . .'_

_'. . .Your hold your own Fate in this period of Grace. . .'_

'. . ._If I don't at least try. . .'_

_'. . .Then you will have doomed yourself and your soul for all time. . .'_

The Horned King slowly massaged his temples with his right hand to try and ease the pounding headache that had suddenly sprang up. What was wrong with him? He had never felt this torn between decisions. Never. He had never second-guessed himself before. He was the most ruthless warlord the world had ever seen. He killed without mercy and enjoyed it. His minions wiped out everything in their path. Men, women, children, all. He had once possessed a fierce, single-minded drive that nothing could stand against or hinder. He knew exactly what to do, had to do to achieve his goals, and he did it. Nothing would get in his way of ultimate power. World domination. He had fought, strategized, planned, calculated, and plotted with utmost care and ruthless cunning for years, all the while dealing with a large group. . .he refused to call them an "army". . .of dimwitted goons constantly dragging him down that were too lazy to run, too cowardly to fight and had the intellectual capabilities of an empty wooden pail.

Now that he thought about it, the pail was probably smarter. It could roll with the punches, at least.

So where was that one-track drive now, that was the secret to all of his success before?

At the moment, he had no answer to that.

His indecision rendering his feet immobile, he kept staring at the girl in front of the fire, noticing even from this distance she could barely stay on her feet. She looked ready to drop from exhaustion any second, and barely conscious. He doubted she would even know he was behind her till his hand was around that pretty little neck.

His mood brightened at the prospect of maiming something other than the Creeper, but was immediately dampened by a flashback of himself inside the Cauldron. He jumped in fright as the fire licked at him, the laughter resounding. . .He put his hands over his face to block the horrifying memories out.

Trembling slightly he composed himself, temporarily making a decision.

He would let the human live.

For now.

* * *

When the girl had lost feeling in her freezing fingers again she had been forced to turn away from the staircase and back toward the fire again to warm her arms and face, the heat relieving her pounding head somewhat. She felt so exposed here. . .her legs wobbled again in exhaustion and she nearly cried out as she tensed her muscles to keep her knees from buckling under her weight. She was so tired. . .she stared blankly at the fire through half lidded eyes, watching the flames dance over the wood in the fireplace. The soft snapping, crackling and occasional "Poof!" coupled with the flurry of sparks as it caved in on itself was nothing short of a soothing lullaby. The flames kept dancing in a sort of disjointed waltz, over the wood and across her vision, luring her to stare deeper, coaxing her eyes to close completely. With a massive effort she resisted its warm, reassuring pull, but she knew she couldn't hold it off much longer. She was so tired. . .

Somehow in her haze, she suddenly realized that her numbed and dull senses had been sending her signals for quite some time now, alerting her that something in the room had changed. Her consciousness protested angrily at being disturbed *again* but she heavily pulled it to the surface of her mind, feeling over the area to see what was new. She jolted awake a little more as she realized a presence in the room. And not just any presence.

This one was different from all the others she had sensed so far. The others had been either benign or chaotic, not even giving her much of a second glance. Although she couldn't see them, she knew when she was being watched and she had sensed the others had not been that horribly interested.

This one was very different. She felt the darkest aura around this presence she had ever felt in her young life. It was darker than a moonless night when thunderheads covered every inch of the sky. That pitch kind of darkness your nightmares usually end in right before you jerk awake in terror.

It was darker than that.

Much, much darker.

And it terrified her out of her mind.

Adrenaline pumping through her veins, her eyes widened in fear as she kept her gaze on the fire. She had never felt anything so frightening. Her terror compounded as her senses gave her the next realization.

_It was *watching* her._

The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she began to shake uncontrollably.

* * *

What felt like an eternity passed as she fought to keep from fleeing from the room and leaving to go sleep in the barn tonight, but terror kept her rooted to the spot. Sudden movement might be enough to anger it, and she knew her legs wouldn't even get her halfway to the door.

She couldn't take the tension anymore. Turning around and looking at the half-shadowed staircase, which was littered with silverware and broken china, her voice wavered shakily out of her mouth.

"Hello?"

* * *

The Horned King got his third surprise of the evening when he heard the girl's voice waver through the air and drift against his eardrums.

"Hello?"

It echoed slightly off the stone walls and came back to replay, making her sound just as pitiful as she looked. He had not expected her to speak, or even sense him. Even while exhausted, this human seemed more perceptive than most. Not that it would help her any.

'_Hello? Hello? Hello?'_

The silence afterward seemed stuffy and thick, and the Horned King noticed her shaking increase. He gave a silent nod of approval. This would work to his advantage.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

* * *

The girl stared for several moments at the staircase and the shadows covering the balcony, unable to stop shivering in fear. It had taken all her courage to force that one word out. She couldn't do it again. The echoes her voice had stirred up in the old walls were swiftly smothered by the silence. Trembling, and deciding after several long seconds that whatever it was wasn't going to answer her, she turned back to the blaze.

And then it spoke.

"Who trespasses in my castle?"

The girl jumped, her legs nearly giving out on her as she whipped around to face the stairs again. Her stomach rose up in her throat and threatened to choke her as her heart kicked against her ribs like an angry mule. Shivering anew, she stared with huge eyes into the shadows, searching for movement that could give away the speaker.

She didn't want to answer. She wanted to run. She wanted to go home. She _wished_ she was at home right now. Or Dalben's. Even the forest would be preferable over this place!

But it was expecting an answer, and she didn't want to die tonight. Terrified, she answered.

"I-I'm sorry I t-trespassed here. I got lost in the s-storm and got blown off course. I me-me-mean you and your servants no harm. I ju-just need a place to stay for the n-n-night."

A silence followed, and the girl wondered if she'd spoken loud enough for whoever it was to hear her. She was so tired and scared, her voice couldn't carry far at all, and the crashing storm outside didn't help. Every moment that passed she felt the knot inside her stomach tighten more, and she felt like she was going to be sick.

Just when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, it answered again.

"I see."

Instead of easing her fright the answer only compounded it. That voice. . .it was so dark, just like its owner's presence. It echoed off the walls of the room, sounding deep and gravelly, like it had been dredged up from the very bowels of the earth.

She really didn't want to speak again, but she felt like it expected her to say something else. So she tried, despite the fact that her mouth and throat had gone bone dry.

"Who are you?"

She silently cursed herself for sounding like she was about to faint dead away. In reality, she was so exhausted and scared out of her mind she could barely string words together, let alone keep her voice even.

"The Master of this Castle," came the dark reply.

After a pause, it spoke again.

"Who are you?"

Inwardly, she quaked at the mere thought of telling them her name, but that voice! It was so cold and. . .heartless. Like it would not hesitate to kill her if she refused to answer the question. She dared not lie for fear of being caught at it.

"I'm a b-b-brush farmer from the outskirts of P-Prydain," She stammered out again, barely able to keep her knees from collapsing on her. "And m-my n-name is. . ."

Here her voice finally failed her and she lapsed into a coughing fit, brought on by being cold and wet for too long at a time. She held her stomach as she nearly bent double, trying to stop the scratch in her throat. Her coughing echoed off the walls loudly and she was praying that they did not think she was insulting them by doing this, she didn't mean to! The silence from the shadows only made her coughing sound louder.

After what felt like an eternity she was able to draw in a ragged breath again and slowly straighten herself up. Catching her breath, she spoke again, her voice even weaker now than before, straining out of her mouth as she fought to speak above a whisper.

"My n-name is Avalina."

The silence that followed seemed like several minutes. It probably wasn't that long, but the girl was nearly delirious and had lost all sense of time. Her fear was the only thing keeping her on her feet now. The last of her energy had left with her coughing fit, leaving her really and truly helpless. Once again, right when she thought whoever it was wasn't going to answer her, it did.

"A, va. . .Lina."

It drew her name out slowly, deliberately, as if tasting the syllables, one at a time, feeling the phonetics of the word. She shivered as it did so. It may have been her delirium but she could have sworn it sounded deeply contemplative and. . .faintly amused?

After another silence, it spoke again.

"My servant will show you to your sleeping quarters for tonight. That is all."

The cold tone was as sure a dismissal as any.

* * *

The Horned King scrutinized the pathetic creature that was fighting a losing battle at staying on her feet down below him. Her weak attempts to talk made him wonder faintly how she had managed to stay conscious this long. The fact that she would be bold enough to dare ask him who he was nearly made him tell her outright, but he changed his mind at the last minute. There was no need for her to know exactly who he was. Yet, anyway.

He didn't know why he allowed her to stay. If he bothered being honest with himself he would have known the reason, but for the sake of his pride he had forced the real motives out of his head.

_'She may somehow prove useful.'_

As he dismissed her, he waved his hand at the Invisible that he knew was around here somewhere to follow his order. Now. Immediately a torch flickered on halfway up the steps, waving slowly at the girl in a signal. The Horned King exited through another door so she would not see him.

'_Avalina.'_

He thought the name out silently as he headed for his chambers. It was her name.

He never bothered remembering names. Ever. Nor did he bother asking for them. Why should he, when calling one by name implied familiarity? It suggested sociability. It indicated recognition of being something. Someone, rather.

No one he ever met had deserved to be remembered or recognized in any way. They were as petty and fleeting as dust, living short and useless lives comparable to the mayfly. Merely things to use, abuse, and then crush out of his way to ultimate power.

Names were pointless.

Names were foolish.

But he had spoken hers.

_'Avalina.'_

And he remembered it.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

* * *

Relief flooded through her veins, every beat of her heart pumping it swiftly through her body and leaving her trembling as the fight-or-flight instinct left her body to disappear into the shadows.

The exhausted girl stumbled up the steps after the torch, trying her best to to avoid all the broken dishes. Which was nearly impossible because of the sheer quantity and her vision, which was so blurry she could barely see where she was going. The light went through a door off to the left at the top of staircase and she followed.

She quickly lost track of where she was going, with the twisting and turning stretches of nothing but torch light, darkness, stone walls, floor and ceiling with wooden supports. It all looked exactly the same, but she couldn't focus her eyes enough to notice any differences, anyhow. The torches she passed on the walls seemed to light themselves when she drew near, and then snuff out after she passed them, but she was too tired to really notice.

The torch she was following proved to be rather shy, always staying just out of clear sight where she couldn't see anything but its movement and follow that. It stayed just out of her line of clear vision, but never left. On one occasion when she stumbled and nearly fell, it came back and waited for her as she forced her throbbing feet to keep going.

After what felt like a few dozen years of walking through twisting halls and several different doors, flights of steps and passing multiple rooms, the light up ahead dove through an opening in the wall and seemed to stop.

Avalina limped up slowly and turned inside, and the sight before her had never looked so heavenly.

A bed lay in the center of the room, its head against the wall, directly in front of her, its foot pointing toward the door. The blankets were folded neatly back, looking like they had been laid down just a minute ago. The torch that had brought her here was in a holder on the wall by the hot little fire in the tiny fireplace, casting light to the entire room. There was more light off to her left, and limping forward, Avalina came into a smaller room. . .obviously the washroom, by the looks of it. . .where there was a hot bath drawn and waiting.

The girl wanted nothing more than to go and fall into bed and just sleep. But the servants obviously meant for her to use the water, and she didn't wish to anger her host.

Closing the thick wooden washroom door behind her, she was finally able to get out of her soaking wet clothing and take a well-deserved bath. She knew she would sleep much better if she felt clean. Carefully prying her feet out of her boots, wincing as she did so, she examined them. There was dark marks across them in the neat shape of about one third of Mitternacht's hooves.

_'Dumb animal,' _she thought, slightly irritated. _'Can't take a little lightning.'_

She sighed a moment later, admitting to herself that she had been just as scared as he had. She didn't blame him for bolting like that, she just wished he had handled it a bit better than he did. If she had kept her seat better like a more accomplished equestrian would have done, she wouldn't be in so much pain now and may not be here. She could be home!

_'In the morning he and I are going to have a long talk about fear and how to manage it,' _she thought irritably as she eased herself into the hot water. _'And then I'm going to go ride something that bucks to get my riding edge back.'_

Fighting drowsiness with all her might, she managed to wash off as quickly as possible. She made sure she didn't stop, knowing that she'd fall asleep in the water, as exhausted as she was. After she had combed her hair and changed into a long nightgown that had been laid out, she walked carefully into the bedroom, looking forward to the bed more than anything in the world right now.

But the surprises weren't finished for the night, it seemed. For on the little table by the crackling fireplace was a tray full of food that must have been brought in while she was bathing. She did a bleary-eyed glance around the room, but there was nobody there. The smell reminding her of her gnawing hunger, she limped over and attacked it. Too tired to really understand what she was eating, she roughly gathered that it was fried potatoes, fruit and some sort of meat that was very good. A glass of water sat on the table's edge.

Finished, Avalina whispered a thank you to anyone who might be listening as she limped painfully over to the bed and fell gratefully into it. As the warmth enveloped her, the last thing she saw inside head was her mother pacing the floor in worry.

_'I'll be home soon, Mom.'_

She fell asleep the instant she closed her eyes.

* * *

The Horned King paced his chambers slowly, studying his decision he had just made downstairs as an artist would a mural. For the first time in centuries, his steps were neither aggressive nor brooding, and his thoughts calm and contemplating, rather than vengeful and calculating.

He had summoned the goblin earlier and ordered him to stay out of the human's sight or else, in less but decidedly more effective words. The goblin had been too happy to agree if it meant he would not anger his Master.

The Horned King pondered what could have possibly caused him to make the choice he had downstairs. Part of him blamed the Invisibles for distracting him and making it impossible to think at all. In his haste to shut them up he had made a decision he would not have made under normal circumstances. But since when did he ever make hasty decisions, even when he *was* under pressure? He was a war general, a king even! He was used to pressure and he was a strategist. Not a narrow-minded alley thug that ran blindly from authority and ultimately cornered themselves. He was not a rat in a maze, doomed to blindly wander til he found his way out. . .or was he?

He growled softly. As much as he had told himself over and over (And over) again in the days since his resurrection, no matter what his decision, it seemed the Fates (Or his Invisible servants, at least) had somehow coerced him into making it. Nothing he did felt like his own doing, anymore.

But that wasn't true, he corrected himself. The Invisibles, although terribly annoying with their antics and sarcastic arrogance, had never impressed on him to do anything. They obeyed him and they acted like the slaves they were. . .when they felt like it.

The Horned King wondered if that one stipulation they had told him about. . .not being able to harm anyone, nor able to help someone (It didn't matter who) harm anyone else. . .was actually something the Fates had forbidden them to do, or they had just made it up just to annoy him further. Both were thoroughly plausible.

With slight effort, he returned his line of thought to the matter at hand. Why *had* he allowed the girl to stay, and furthermore, why had he not killed her when he had the perfect opportunity?

He turned the question over in his head, observing it from all angles, picking out all the points and trying them out for probability.

She could always be useful at some point. This was the first thing he had told himself when he saw her.

The Horned King prided himself in being able to use nearly anyone or anything that came under his control for at least one thing or another. He looked over everything, no matter how seemingly small or insignificant, for any type of potential he could put to his own use. Anything he could salvage to serve his purpose at the time, he would do so, but the instant they proved more trouble than they were worth or if they were no longer of use, he would have them eliminated from the picture faster than you could blink. That was one of the reasons he had been so successful in conquest in the past, and he would not pass up this possible pawn.

The Invisibles had reprimanded him.

He had never been scolded before in his life. If he had he could no longer remember it, and it was of no importance now.

The complete shock of being criticized heavily by his own slaves was a new one. Anyone else that would even have thought about it would have promptly had their heads removed. But since the Invisibles were anything but mortal humans, nothing he did could intimidate them in the slightest. He couldn't threaten them, couldn't scare them, punish them, abuse them, or even force them to obey him in any way. And they took full advantage of it. When they weren't cracking sarcastically arrogant comments and jokes within earshot about everything related to him under the sun, they took great pleasure in tossing things back and forth through the air like childish games. Everything from flaming torches to brimful teapots had been thrown all the way across a room before, and to date nothing had ever been dropped or broken.

It was like having a bunch of brattish trolls around instead of slaves. He had irritably asked one once why they felt the need to take any assignment and turn it into a ridiculous game, and they had replied that the Fates had only told them to obey him, they hadn't specified how they were to go about it.

Now he had a hunch that they obeyed him merely because they felt like it, because he was completely powerless to make them do anything at all against their will. He was not used to that. He had always had people fear him and obey him immediately before, and once again, it was another reason for his tremendous previous success. People were too scared to disobey or do anything less than total submission for fear of his wrath.

The flashbacks.

They were always there, in the back of his mind, just waiting to spring to the surface and scream in his face. They wore heavily on his thoughts and his nerves, taunting him, mocking him. Constantly. No matter how hard he tried to suppress them, they would bubble to the surface whenever his guard was down, leaving him terrified all over again, snappish and with an absolute zero tolerance for anything other than silence and solitude.

She was a female.

This reason had more to do with that abominable task the Fates had assigned him with at the very beginning of this madness than her gender did. He had killed more people than anyone would ever want to count. Rather, his men had, but he had ordered it.

_'Find someone to love you,'_

the Fates had said. He snarled out loud in fury at the reminder, the noise sounding even more frightening in the silence of his chambers. He was not going to even think about such a thing ever happening, but if he decided to, a young girl like Avalina would undoubtedly be his best choice.

Her name. Avalina.

He couldn't get it out of his head. He had tried ignoring those four syllables ever since he had spoken them aloud, but they danced across the top of his other thoughts as lightly as a fairy in midair, pirouetting round and round, kicking off with the breeze of his thoughts to dance higher til it would flit to the surface again and hover, shimmering like dawn sunlight over a dewdrop enshrouded cobweb. It was unforgettable. Unignorable. Perhaps even, beau-

_'No!'_ He forcefully snapped the thought it two, refusing to let it finish.

Perhaps he should not have asked her name. Names were a hindrance and had no place in his thoughts. So why couldn't he forget hers? The odd times when one of his new recruits would introduce themselves by name, he would brush it off and it would be forgotten not five minutes later. Not that he had a bad memory, oh no. . .no one remembered longer than the Horned King. . .names were simply petty and not even worth speaking, let alone remembering. They implied you cared for someone, whether positively or negatively. It made the named one worthy of some sort of recognition.

He recognized no one of anything. They were less than worth his time.

He had done both with the girl's, both spoken *and* remembered her name, and he wasn't certain why. He had never asked anyone for their name before in his life, but he had asked her who she was, and her name was part of the description, he supposed with a mild huff. Mortals always seemed to think names were so terribly important, they had to name everything.

Perhaps he simply couldn't forget it because he was unused to hearing someone's birth designation, and the novelty of it had not yet worn off.

The tap at his door shook him from his thoughts, and he settled himself into the small throne before telling the Invisible to enter. Sometimes they would wait for his answer, other times they would march right on in, and he could almost hear the cackles of mirth they got from hearing him growl in displeasure at their antics.

The door came open and he felt the presence enter the room. "The girl has been settled, Your Highness."

The Horned King gave a small nod of dismissal in reply. The Invisible turned to go, the door being drawn shut, but before they left completely the door popped open a little more and the impish brat laughed every syllable.

"She sure was pretty, wasn't she?"

"Get out!" The Horned King hissed, his previous good mood eradicated.

Cackling in mirth, the Invisible shut the door and the laughter faded into the distance, leaving a fuming Horned King longing, for at least the fourth time today, that he could wring their necks.

Nevertheless, that infuriating servant had a point. He had not been able to study her well, from the distance and bad lighting from earlier. It was unwise to have anyone around you could not even recognize. He nodded to himself. Tomorrow he would place a face to that name.

Avalina.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

* * *

Creeper, after fleeing his master's rage, had wandered the castle searching for a room with a fire, and had found one rather quickly. He was curled in a chair with a blanket in front of said fire now.

The heat was warm, but the comfort had gone out of it. Creeper had felt hungry earlier but his now appetite was gone, replaced with a hard little knot in the pit of his stomach.

Creeper was profoundly discouraged.

He had tried so hard to please his Master tonight, beyond his normal 'Less punishment' range, and his Master had still not been pleased in the slightest. If anything he had been angrier than normal, and the goblin had certainly felt it. Creeper had been recently wondering if his Master might be going senile or simply unpleasable at all. He had only seen his master show happiness of any sort in his expression when the Cauldron had been found.

Come to think of it, Creeper was wondering if he himself might be going mad. Just what had he been thinking when he had tried to scare the human off? And furthermore, why did those In. . .Insable. . .gah, forget it. . .the things-that-couldn't-be-seen, have to send HIM, of all of them, to fetch his Master, knowing full well he would be punished for it?

He bared his teeth in anger. Master couldn't even hurt them at all, why hadn't one of them gone instead? Creeper always got blamed for everything, even if it wasn't his fault. Actually, it was more of not his fault than it was most of the time. Creeper tried to be good.

At least, Creeper didn't think his Master could hurt them. He had never seen him do it. He had threatened them multiple times and they had fallen into hysterics. At these times it was very easy to imagine them leaning on each other for support as they laughed themselves silly. And then Creeper, being the only one his Master *could* harm, had gotten the brunt of it. He always did.

The storm was still raging wildly outside, warning the goblin that if he didn't want to wake up screaming he had better not fall asleep tonight. Which he had no intention of doing.

He had not dared to ask his Master what had become of the human, but from the way his Master had forbidden him to let the human see him, he had given the girl leave to stay tonight. And apparently in a room by the sound of it.

The goblin felt a slight twinge. Why hadn't his Master killed the human? There was nothing to stop him, and he knew his master craved bloodshed to break the monotonous days. So why hadn't he done it? Instead of killing it, he had given it a place to stay! But he knew better than to assume anything from his master.

The goblin frowned deeper. None of it made any sense. Nothing had made sense since the day he'd been brought back. And now his Master had a unharmed, live human sleeping in the castle tonight, and he apparently had no plans to kill it yet. This was most unusual.

He rubbed his throat tenderly and took the cup of tea that one of the. . .things. . .under his master's employment had set there on the table beside him. He hadn't asked for it, one of them had simply entered the room and left it, with a saucer of small cakes. The smell of the hot confections were mouthwatering, but he knew if he tried to eat it now he would certainly kill himself by choking on the crumbs. So many years under his master's abuse had taught him to be careful with what he could and could not eat after getting punished. But he was so hungry!

He glanced at it out of the corner of his eye. It was sitting there mocking him with its delightful smell, the glaze slowly melting in the heat of the fire. The goblin wanted nothing more than to throw it across the room and hear it shatter against the wall, but he restrained himself with a massive amount of self-control. He didn't want to get punished *again* tonight. He bared his teeth in fury and turned his back on it, cuddling into the blanket to try and get comfortable, taking his cup of tea with him so he would not have to turn around again.

_'Everyone else gets away with everything,'_ the goblin thought bitterly.

_ 'Creeper gets away with nothing. The things-you-can't-see can get away with anything they want, including making fun of the Master, and then I get punished for it. It doesn't matter what I try to do, I always get in trouble even if its not my fault. Even the *human* gets away with trespassing, a place to sleep and everything else. Master didn't even hurt it. Why is it always me?'_

Creeper angrily took another drink of his tea, but in his frustration he moved too quickly and the liquid went down his throat wrong, causing him to go into an extremely painful coughing fit.

Gripping his throat, he leaned over the chair, each hack and cough earning sharp pains from his throat and vocal chords, increasing the suffocating feeling.

After what felt like centuries he finally brought it under control. Not daring to drink anything else, he turned his back to the fire and tried to make himself comfortable. The pain was still there, though not as bad, but his throat felt like it was full of pins.

_'The Fates must hate me too,'_ Creeper thought bitterly as he tried to keep the air off his throat. _'I always get the short end. Even the human, that Master would have killed under *Any other* circumstances, gets to stay the night in safety. And what do I get? Nothing but punishment. Again. He never rewards me. Ever. Why? Why does he hate me so much? What did I ever do to him? WHAT?!'_

A trickling sensation across his cheek caught his attention, and running his hand over his face, he realized he was crying. Again. For the second time in nearly four weeks.

_'When will this end? I'm sick of this! I wish it would end! I wish I could kill him!'_

He hated being weak like this! He hated it! He hated not being free! He hated his Master! He hated those stupid what-ever-they-were, he hated humanity and he hated that human!

_'I hate them all!'_

The only thing audible in the room for a long time afterward was the crackling fire and the choking sobs of a little broken goblin.

* * *

In another part of the castle, there was a room under management. There was a thick gray-ish brown powdering of dust thick enough to pass for a light shawl all over the furniture, which was several centuries old, mostly rotted out and thoroughly beyond repair. Cobwebs were lavishly draped all over like unspun thread. A thick carpet of dirt and filth covered the floor, adding to the mess. A presence was moving about, trying to knock all the cobwebs off the ceilings and other high areas with a long broom, succeeding for the most part.

"Confound those spiders!" A disembodied voice grumbled, quite audibly.

"For something in a losing battle they're putting up quite a fruitless fight. But they can't fight the power of MY broom! Not his, not hers, nobody's. . .but MINE!"

The presence attacked the flitting cobwebs even more furiously with a soft cackle.

"Ah, yes, so sweet the feeling of glorified triumph. . ."

The door blew open very suddenly, and a mild disaster immediately ensued. The top layer of dirt carpet, dust shawl and loose cobwebs lying on the floor (That had been knocked down a mere minute ago) instantly rose as if on wings and blew wildly around the room in a perfect example of a little dust storm, making it thoroughly impossible to see, breathe or talk. Coughing and barks of rage immediately followed as all the beings bailed out the door and slammed it behind them, quite a bit of the debris blowing out with them and making a grand mess in what had once been an immaculately clean hall.

When the coughing was more or less under control, a voice snapped rather irritably, "You _idiots!_ I had just, (cough) cleaned that ceiling! And just _look_ at this hallway! I am NOT cleaning this up!"

A bout of laughter followed. "What's the matter? Worried about the spiders evening the score?" One voice teased.

"Or are you worried that they've finally allied themselves with the dust bunnies and have accepted your declaration of war?" Another voice chided.

"You'd better be careful or you'll end up in a sticky sit-shoo-A-shun," the first cackled.

"Especially if you keep getting so *caught up* in your work," the second snickered. "Like a fly in a web!"

"Ahaha, the Might of My," the first being took a short breath, "Mighty Broom, Is Mightier Than All The Mightiest Might Of The Most Mightiest of Mighty CobWebs! Flee, You Eight-Legged Manifestations Of An Intoxicated god! Or maybe three intoxicated gods, who knows?!"

The second, through hiccups of laughter, added, "It Frankly does not Frilly matter how many InFroxiFated Frods Manifested dem! Dey'll all die!"

The pair dissolved into sobs of laughter.

The other groaned in exasperation, as another presence came around the corner to take in the sight. There was laughter in its voice as it spoke.

"Do I. . .?"

"No," the cleaner sighed as it put down the broom. "No, you really, really don't."

A disdainful silence from the speaker made the sobbing cackles of the other two seem all the louder, who had yet to pull themselves together and back into the real world. After a moment the cleaner spoke again.

"So, how is she?"

"I coaxed her to take a bath and eat something before she went to bed," the newcomer answered. "She fell asleep the instant her head hit the pillow, poor thing. I put some wraps on her feet to help with the bruising and swelling."

"Bruising?" The first enquired.

"It looked like she'd been stomped on by her horse," the second said softly. "Her head had taken a rather nasty hit too, but I don't think she even noticed that it hadn't stopped bleeding all night. No, don't worry, I got it stopped and bandaged, she'll be fine."

The other two, having finally pulled themselves together, came over. "Will she be ok?" The first asked in concern.

"Yes, she'll be fine," the newcomer replied. "For now."

"Her name's Avalina, right?" The other of the two questioned curiously.

"Yes."

At this, the two that had destroyed the cleaner's hard work shouted at the same time.

"That's So Appropriate!"

Sounds of palms connecting in high fives rang through the hall.

The cleaner stared in annoyance.

"What do you mean?"

The cheering stopped.

". . . . . . . .You don't know?!"

". . . . . . . . You don't know?!"

". . .Should I?"

"And you think you just know EEEVERYthing, don't you?"

"Get on with it!"

". . . . . . . . . .No." The pair broke up in cackles again. "If YOU don't know, we're going to hold this over your head as long as absolutely possible."

The fourth presence chuckled as what sounded like a facepalm popped softly. "I think they've got you," it laughed kindly, before turning to the duo. "Did you tell the Horned King the girl had been cared for?"

A spew of snickers erupted. "Oh yeah, we told him."

The cleaner sighed. "What did you do this time?"

"Absolutely nothing."

A stray snicker-turned-hiccup hukked itself out, making for a very tense silence.

The cleaner sounded suddenly very tired. "Please tell me you didn't set his stole on fire, _Again."_

"OF COURSE NOT!" Their loud objections shouted in a preposterous manner.

". . . .And besides, it wasn't his stole."

"Yeah, it was the cobwebs he had all over the stole. . .we only burned those."

"And can you believe he got *mad* about it?"

"I know! He's impossible to please!"

"Like you always say, a servant should tend to their master's every need." That tone sounded incredibly professional.

"And he needed to get those cobwebs off! They were disgusting and totally unfitting for a king to wear! Which was a shame because he wore them soooo well. . .Hey, do you think we ruined his fashion sense? Maybe that was why he was mad! It probably took him ages to get them just right!"

A short pause.

"What have we done?!" The voice sounded horror-stricken.

"We ruined his kingly fashion," the other sounded like it was going to cry.

"And by extension. . . we've ruined his very life!"

". . . . . . .WHAT KIND OF MONSTERS ARE WE!?"

". . . . . . .WHAT KIND OF MONSTERS ARE WE!?"

The panicked and distraught tones of their voices were clearly audible.

A stray sound came from the other side of the room, sounding like the fourth presence was having a terrible time keeping a straight face.

The cleaner's voice was like ice.

"I swear, if I go up there and find out_!"

It was interrupted by the fourth servant finally breaking down and keeling out bouts of helpless laughter that showed no sign of stopping anytime soon.

The two horror-stricken servants, who were on the verge of a true sobbing breakdown, were silent for a long moment.

". . .Why are they laughing?"

". . .I don't know. Should we ask?"

"Let's ask later. I want to laugh now."

"Ok!"

A puff of exasperation escaped the cleaner as the other three laughed for all they were worth.

"Why do I even bother. . ."

Deciding they would be be completely useless for at least another hour, it eased the door open to the room it had been cleaning, and stared at the aftermath from earlier.

The ceiling, (That had almost been completely spotless, a sign of many hours of cleaning) now possessed more filth than anything else in the room put together. All the dirt, dust, cobwebs and various other mess seemed to have gotten the unified idea to migrate heavenward and roost on all the rafters.

As the cleaner stared around the room in swiftly mounting fury, the old chair in the corner gave a groan and collapsed in roughly 40 pieces on the floor, sending up a cloud of dust.

The dust spread out halfheartedly, drifting aimlessly over the floor and slowly dissipating. Like the chair, it had given up on life. A cobweb drifted slowly down, down onto the floor, and prostrated itself in front of the cleaner, the surest sign of submission the room had given yet.

The other three Invisibles, leaning on each other and the doorframe by the sound of it, witnessed it all. The cobweb, the dust, and the chair.

That gallant old chair.

"That poor chair," the newcomer said sadly.

"It gave up," the second sniffled.

"You could say," the still grinning third said, well aware of the rage it was about to unleash from the cleaner, "That it just didn't give a stole."

No more cleaning was done for the rest of the night.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

* * *

A jolt of pain and terror shook Creeper awake with the sharp realization that he was suffocating. He couldn't breathe!

In panic he kicked and clawed in the darkness, fighting with all his might. It was giving, whatever it was. One more swing from his arm and he was free, fresh air flowing into his lungs as he yanked the blanket off his head and sat up, adrenaline flooding his veins, making his heart pound heavily.

Glancing wildly about the room, he took in the fire, the furniture and everything else before realization hit him.

_'I fell asleep,'_ he realized, looking up at the chair in front of him.

_'And I got tangled up in the blanket and fell out of the chair. It woke me up. He's not here, it was just a dream. Not real.'_

The goblin shivered at the terrifying images flashing through his head he had no trouble remembering.

_'Not real!'_

Creeper nearly jumping out of his skin when a boom of thunder sounded from outside, the terror of his nightmare still perfectly imprinted in his brain, as all his nightmares had been of late, making everything from the shadows in the room to the fire horrifyingly evil.

Fancying he could feel things, terrible things, staring at him, he leaped back into the chair and covered himself completely with the blanket, trying to get as small as possible. His heart sprang to his throat as he heard the door open. Shaking, he started when he heard the sound of something being set down on the little table by his chair, and voices whispering to each other, before something gently tugged the blanket off his head to reveal a tray of food on the table.

The creature, or creatures, folded the blanket and nudged the tray toward him simultaneously. Suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed at being caught in such a pathetic state, Creeper reached for the food, remembering he had eaten nothing the night before. To his relief he saw it was a type of thick, smooth oatmeal they made sometimes. Something he wouldn't choke on.

Carefully taking a spoonful, he nearly moaned out loud as the coating warmth slid down his tender throat, already making him feel better. As he ate, the servants stoked up the fire again, which was burning a bit low, and seemingly were going to wait til he was finished eating.

If he had not been such a bitter, self-absorbed creature himself, the goblin may have been able to feel the feelings of sympathy and pity emanating from the silent, invisible figures, but he was too busy with his own problems to acknowledge them.

Several minutes later, when he was finished eating and the servants had taken the tray away, he stayed by the fire for a long while, not willing to leave its warmth and go traipsing about in the cold, dark corridors. The rest of the castle held nothing of interest for him, but he was incredibly, incredibly bored. He wouldn't be able to sleep now, although he was exhausted. His nightmare would only return to haunt him if he dared to close his eyes. He couldn't believe he had allowed himself to fall asleep when it was storming anyway.

Bitterly, he got up. If he couldn't sleep, he decided, he would walk.

* * *

A deep, far-off rumbling caught her ear, slowly nudging her mind into consciousness. She burrowed deeper into the warm blankets, not willing to wake up yet. She wanted to go back to sleep.

Another soft rumble reached her ear, making her cover her head with the sheets. The swift and heavy pitta-pat-tat-tat on the walls and window outside indicated it was raining. Rather hard, by the dim sound of it.

_'If its still storming there won't be any plowing today,'_ her barely conscious mind thought blearily. _ 'Mother won't care if I sleep in a little. She's not even cooking breakfast yet.'_

From her room in the little farmhouse, she could always tell when any other member of the house was up, simply by listening. The way her mother would stir her coffee a certain way before setting the spoon down on the saucer with a light little 'Clink'. . .the way her brother would go tromping around in his big manly boots, standing to stare out the kitchen window with his coffee in hand, watching the weather, every morning, without fail. . .just like Dad used to do. . .something that Avalina would do as well, when she could be bothered to get out of bed.

A small, bittersweet smile rested on her features for a moment at the reminiscing, her eyes still closed. She didn't want to open them just yet and face the storm, which would mean a long, boring day of staying inside.

She was nearly completely asleep again within minutes, but another rumble of thunder snapped the threads pulling her into blessed slumber.

_'Ten minutes,'_ she promised herself. _'Ten more.'_

Listening to the rain, she wondered why things that went on while she slept seemed to affect the dreams she had. She didn't know if she was the only person like that, or it was normal for everyone. Frankly it was a rather embarrassing question, one she didn't dare ask to anyone. She remembered that it had stormed all night, and it had definitely influenced what her dreams had contained.

_'I was coming home from Dalben's,'_ she remembered bleakly, halfheartedly trying to remember what her dream had been about.

_'I had helped him and Taran on his little plot of ground from sunrise to about an hour before sunset. We mended a broken area in the fencing, I clipped his goats' and sheeps' feet while Taran held their heads, and we did Hen-Wen as well. . .re-thatched the entire roof on his cottage *and* the little barn. . .the Princess was there too, she helped an awful lot. We wouldn't have gotten finished all in one day if she hadn't pitched in. We sat around and talked for ages before I finally headed home. Then a storm blew up out of nowhere, like Thor had decided to pay a surprise visit. It was unreal. Mitternacht spooked when lightning hit a tree and we got lost. And then we found this deeply unsettling castle in the dark, and the owner. . .well, I'm assuming it was the owner. . .let me stay for the night. His voice was terrifying, I could feel the very evil coming off him. It felt like he could see right through my soul. But, he didn't harm me, and the dream ended when I fell asleep in it. And when I fell asleep I was a bit scared, but not too very much.'_

Avalina couldn't decide if it had been a good dream or not. After a long mental debate with herself, she decided that any dream that didn't end in a nightmare was considered a good one.

_'But by Orion's Belt it was eerie,'_ she thought. _ 'I'm glad it was just a dream.'_

Thinking, even when trying to recover details from a dream that had happened that very night, was doing a very good job of waking her up. Avalina wanted to quit thinking and instead try to stay as asleep as possible for a little longer, but her mind, now having something to puzzle over, kept bringing up dozens of details from her dream and steadily reconstructing what had happened last night. Therefore forcing her, if she decided to try to go back to sleep, make it twice the trouble it was worth.

Another boom of thunder, a little louder this time, echoed outside, what little hope she had of sleeping any more completely and instantly ruined.

_'Its time to get up anyway,'_ she thought a bit grudgingly. _ 'Besides, I have Mitternacht to take care of. I know he's pacing his stall waiting for me.'_

A smile, bigger than before, graced her features.

_'He's worth it. And I smell Mom making breakfast now.'_

Yawning, she pulled the covers off her face and half-lidded her eyes, staring tiredly at the ceiling, looking forward to the day, even if it was storming. And then she realized. . .

_'That is not my ceiling.'_

Suddenly sitting up in bed, she took in the scene around her.

She was in the same room where she had fallen asleep in her dream. The very same, right down to the way the torchholder by the fireplace leaned out a bit drunkenly, making it difficult to pick the torch up without burning your face off.

Her heart thudding violently, Avalina was immediately fully awake as she stared around. Her eyes widened to twice their normal size as hot drops of sweat appeared on her forehead.

_'Oh, gods,'_ she thought, her throat constricting.

_'It wasn't a dream. Its bloody real! All of it was real!'_

Privately, she had been faintly wondering how she could have a dream that long and detailed and still remember nearly all of it when she awoke. And now she knew.

_'Its not a dream,'_ she thought, suddenly feeling like her stomach had completely dropped out and fell through the floor. The memory of the deep, menacing voice that had spoken to her previously made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

_'This is a living nightmare!'_

Suddenly feeling very cold, she pulled the covers up over her and leaned against the headboard. Panicked thoughts filled with varying phrasing of_'What am I supposed to do now? Mom's going to be worried sick! I have to get home! How am I supposed to face that, uh. . .master of this castle. . .again? I barely did it last night! And by the sound of it, its storming just as bad as last night. Oh, somebody help me!'_ Filled her head, overlapping each other and rendering the girl quite dazed.

The scent of food slowly broke its way into her frazzled mind and turned her head to the table in the front of the chair by the fireplace. Breakfast was waiting.

Trembling, Avalina really didn't want to get out of bed, but her stomach had other ideas. Having decided to return to its rightful place, it grumbled loudly, reminding her of its hunger. Slowly, she swung her feet over the side of the bed, but flinched hard when they touched the floor. Looking down, she realized for the first time they had been neatly bandaged.

After staring blankly for a moment, the memory came back.

_'Mitternacht,'_ she thought, slightly annoyed.

Sliding off the bed, limping on her sore feet, she grabbed her clothes that had been laid out by the fire to dry. To her surprise when she picked them up, they were dry and warm, and. . .she looked them over to be sure. . .yes, someone had gone to the trouble of washing them last night.

A deep feeling of gratitude washed over her as she slipped into them, feeling a bit better with her old clothes on now.

Something hung on her shirt as she slid it over her head, making her hobble to the washroom to check in the mirror, and seeing a wide bandage wrapped around her head below the hairline. Another memory surfaced.

_'Mitternacht and I butted heads, so to speak,'_ she thought a bit wryly. _ 'Good thing I'm as hardheaded and stubborn as he is.'_

It was quite vague, but she definitely remembered the warm, sticky feeling of something sliding down her face for the second half of the night, and she remembered a very faint glimpse of herself in the mirror last night and seeing the place where her skin had broken.

Carefully, she eased the bandage off, wincing as it came off the wound.

Fully cleaned and no longer bleeding, it didn't look as bad as it had felt last night, but her mother would not be happy about it. Avalina still involuntarily flinched at the sight.

A thick strip of clotted red ran from nearly the bridge of her nose all the way across the right side of her face, nearly to the hairline. Blue and black bruising generously accompanied it. Thankfully, her eyes were not swollen or black, just the bottom half of the right side of her forehead.

'Whoever fixed me up sure did a good job,' she marveled, before heading back to the fireplace to eat.

Sitting down to the wonderful looking oatmeal waiting for her, she murmured a "Thank you," to anyone who might be there, but there was no reply.

To be honest, she hadn't really expected one.


	18. Chapter 18

**I forgot to do disclaimers on the other chapters but I'm sure anyone reading this knows that I don't own anything but the story and my OC's, everything else belongs to Disney and Lloyd Alexander. The song in this chapter is completely copyrighted to SJ Tucker, I don't own it, I'm just using it for non-profit only XD. Somebody review!**

* * *

Chapter 18

* * *

The oatmeal was very good, almost to the point of heavenly. Avalina wondered how they knew she enjoyed cinnamon sprinkled over the top. Being poor, her family couldn't afford cinnamon a lot, and only used it on special occasions.

A faint shiver ran through her and she changed her mind. Maybe it was better not to know how they knew. Besides, since this was indeed a castle, cinnamon was probably commonplace.

The storm was still raging outside just as bad as it had last night, if not worse. The lightning and thunder would be constant for long periods of time, then trail off for several minutes and all you could hear was the howling wind and pounding rain.

This was extremely unsettling for Avalina. She had never seen a storm this bad to go on for so long at a time. It was unusual to say the least.

Avalina had taken up a troubled pacing after she had eaten. Debating silently with herself on whether to risk slogging home in the storm or wait it out here. Neither plan was particularly favorable.

_'On one hand, my family's worried sick,' _she thought. _'I could try to go home in this storm, but I got lost the last time I was caught in it. I'm actually lucky I found this place instead of Mitternacht charging right over a cliff in his fright.'_

The girl recalled a time when her brother had gone for the day on business and had gotten caught in a storm much like this. He and his group had waited in a friend's house for the storm to pass, save for one, who was running behind. When he didn't show up that night, they assumed he had found somewhere to wait out the storm. When it was revealed the next morning that he had left the inn before the storm hit, his friends mounted a search.

They had found the horse at the bottom of a 40 foot drop-off onto the small, stony beach that ran alongside a section of the river, both front legs shattered. It had clearly been spooked by the storm and galloped right off the cliff. Putting it down had been beyond merciful. A mile downstream they had found the rider. Rather, what was left of him. Every bone in had been crushed to pieces. She didn't think her brother ever really got over it.

She could still remember him coming home, looking like he had seen something so horrible no words could describe it. Her mother had sent her to her room, but with her ear to the door she had been able to hear the hushed voice of her brother in the kitchen describing what had happened. Her mother had been horrified.

And that could have been her, last night. . .

Shaking off her frightened thoughts with a jump, she continued pacing.

_'And then on the other hand, this castle is frightening. Its master is frightening, and I haven't even seen him yet! His voice was more than enough for me. I'd never wanted to get away from anything more in my whole life. The evil is stifling here. I can't believe I stayed. But then again, I didn't really have a choice, now did I?'_

Avalina paused for a moment in her pacing. _'So I'm in the fire or the frying pan either way,' _she thought, troubled. _'I can't leave and I can't stay. This is beyond bad luck.'_

Sitting down on the edge of the bed again she contemplated her two options.

_'Going back out in this storm would be suicide, especially since I don't even know where I am. Mitternacht might not even be able to find his way back to the farmhouse. But I really do not like the idea of staying here any longer than absolutely necessary. This place is eerie and most unsettling. But, at the same time. . .'_

A frustrated sigh escaped her lips.

_'I was given naught but the best of service last night, *and* this morning. I was treated very hospitably, and so was my horse. Nothing tried to harm me. At least, I don't think so. One of the servants may have had an accident with that trolley, and were too frightened of me to come out and explain and apologize.'_

Avalina gave a small chuckle at the thought of anyone thinking her dangerous. _'They must not get out much.' _Before she turned herself back to the situation at hand.

'_But then again, I'm not certain I possess the courage necessary to ask the Master's permission to stay another night. For all I know this storm could go on for days.'_

She inwardly quaked at the idea of staying here for that long.

_'I can't face him again. I don't even know where to find him. This castle is *huge!* And that feeling I felt when he was speaking. . .he sounded so cold! So completely heartless! It was like talking to a. . .a. . .'_

She dared not finish that sentence.

Sighing again, Avalina stood up and pulled her boots on. Mitternacht would want his breakfast and no doubt be glad to see her. Staying the night in strange places made the horse nervous if his rider was absent. She could think about what she was going to do while she took care of him.

Pausing uncertainly for a moment at the door, she felt her stomach knot. When she walked out of this room, she was practically handing herself over to anything that might be on the other side of the door. Her palms suddenly sweaty, she grasped the handle tightly and tugged the heavy door open, marveling at its weight.

_'A barroom brawl couldn't bust this thing down,' _she thought, _'But nothing trapped inside could ever get out either.'_

Feeling even more unsettled, she stepped nervously out into the hall, shutting the door behind her. To her surprise, the torches along both sides of the wall were lit, giving her ample light to see where she was going.

_'Thank goodness,' _she thought, relieved. '_I was afraid I'd have to carry the torch.'_

The girl followed the lit torches cautiously, half expecting something to leap out at her from every corner. In many areas the hall branched off into many others, but only one hall would be lit in these instances. She followed the burning torches.

Something else unsettling about this place, she noticed as she walked, was that every stretch of floor, wall and ceiling looked the same, along with the occasional door. It would be so easy to get lost in here. . .she could have sworn she had passed that same closed door three times already.

The soft step of her boots seemed extraordinarily loud against the stone floor. It echoed very softly in the hall, the only other sound being the soft burning of the torches that lit her way.

Tugging open yet another door and stepping through, she barely withheld a shout as she recognized the steps to her right, leading down into the room she had entered last night from outside. The fire was still in the fireplace, and her cloak still hanging by the door. She couldn't decide if she was surprised or not when she tossed her cloak onto her shoulders and realized it had been washed and dried out as well. Hauling open the massive door, she braced herself for a moment before closing it behind her and hurrying toward the stable, which she could barely see the outline of in the sheeting rain and howling wind. The lightning helped her cross the courtyard and find the stable door, which came open easily under her hand, as if someone had opened it from the inside.

* * *

Stumbling into the golden lantern light and the type of warmth only a stable can give off, Avalina pulled off her cloak (Which was soaking wet) and hung it on a nail. Her own clothes were soaked through, but it was warm enough in the stables that it didn't bother her. She would dry off soon anyway.

As she rung out her hair, a large black head poked itself over a stall door and whickered loudly in greeting. Avalina gave him the biggest smile she had had since before all this had started and limped over to him, all her current problems forgotten.

"Well, good morning, handsome," she greeted him, grinning even bigger. "Sleep well?"

She rubbed his forelock out of his eyes and scratched his neck as he sniffed every bit of her he could reach, scenting what was new. "I know I did."

The horse blew softly and rested his head lightly on her shoulder, a sign of contentment that he had. Loosely wrapping her arms around his neck in a hug, she buried her fingers in his mane and gave a deep sigh. Her morale hadn't been this high for a little while.

She could have stayed like that if Mitternacht hadn't nuzzled her hair and tried to fit his muzzle into her pockets. Laughing, she gently pushed him off.

"Ok, boy, breakfast's coming."

It only took her three tries to find the feedroom, which was mildly surprising. As she whipped up his oats and chopped an apple and a couple carrots up to go in it, she found she was singing lightly to herself. Grinning even bigger, realizing she probably looked and sounded like an idiot, she raised her voice, letting it carry through the stable. No one was in here anyway except herself and Mitternacht. And he liked it when she sang.

"One flies in to case the joint

Boldly struts around

Two fly in to make it Three

Laugh a while and knock each other down."

Picking up Mitternacht's feed bucket, she walked out of the feedroom and towards his stall, grinning even bigger as his eyes lit up at the bucket she carried and snorted excitedly.

"Four flies in with a frowning walk

Gains a laugh from out a squawk

But its Five who owns the place and proves it with a look

Stopping Six and Seven in their tracks from smuggling a book."

Pouring the feed into his trough, she laughed as he rooted around in the feed, picking out all the apple slices and carrot chunks first.

"You are so spoiled," she said, shaking her head in mock disappointment as she watched him sort daintily through his food. "We hang around this castle very long and you'll be acting like a regular snoot, thinking yourself too good to enjoy the simple life."

After cleaning the knife and putting away the feed, Avalina went to the tackroom and grabbed some cloths and cleaning supplies, before pulling up a stool and sitting down by the equipment racks. She had been so tired last night she couldn't clean Mitternacht's tack, but now she felt invigorated. Besides, soaked leather usually cracked when it dried, and she couldn't have that. She'd never be able to afford more equipment like this in a thousand years, and she was bound and determined to keep it like new. As Avalina slapped the cleaner onto the rag and scrubbed the saddle fiercely, she picked up the song where she left off, working the fluid deep into the leather joyfully.

"Words within our grasp do we let go

Do we fly heavily with the weight of what we know?

Words within our grasp do we let go

Do we fly heavily with the weight of what we know?"

Hooking a stirrup over the horn, she worked on the underside of the leather, which was lighter in color than the other, making sure to leave no nook or cranny untouched.

"My friend bids me come and see

The Ravens in the library

Setting quiet pages free.

My friend bids me come and see

The Ravens in the library

Setting quiet pages free!"

Now she worked her way to the cantle, back housing and skirt, making sure she didn't miss a place. In the background she could hear Mitternacht crunching his feed in contentment. Peeking out the door, she saw he had his ears pricked towards the tackroom, listening to her.

"One for Fiction

Two for Truth,

Three for swords and armored suits

Four for ancient mystery.

Five studies art and ancient skulls

Six eats periodicals

Seven lives in Poetry."

Getting up, Avalina moved her stool and cleaning stuff over to the other side of the saddle, so she could work on it there. Sitting back down, she resumed.

"One hangs out on the drama shelves

But keeps the monologues to herself

Two and Three are studying jewels.

Four reads all about the battles won

Five won't share the shiny ones!

Six and Seven labor all night through."

The upper side done, she flipped the left stirrup up on the horn so she work on the leather underneath, and tend to the long fore and aft cinches. After chanting the small bridge she headed into another verse again, smiling away.

"Hours of study flying by

Words soaked up by beady eyes

Long debates into the night

Pages flying everywhere!

Seek the language word by word,

Like the black and clever bird

Never let it bring you down

All the things we haven't figured out."

Singing the chorus again, Avalina wiped down the chest straps and crupper before moving her stool over to where the bridle was hanging and starting on it. (And the next verse)

"Seven reads about the gods

Chuckles to herself

To the rest she never lets on.

Try to catch a glimpse of them

Bickering like mortal men

Feathers on the cobbled walk!

If you heard a Raven say such,

*Horrible* words,

As the ones you may have heard

In your day-to-day,

Would it make you choose your own

More carefully,

Around the ones you love?"

Avalina cleaned the long reins and polished the bits and buckles as she repeated the bridge again.

"Words within our grasp do we let go

Do we fly heavily with the weight of what we know?

Words within our grasp do we let go

Do we fly heavily with what we know?"

Finally finished, she put the cleaning things away and surveyed her work, feeling a bit tired, but triumphant. The equipment looked like new all over again, and even in the low lighting the leather and buckles shone.

Feeling the saddle blanket she had leaned up to dry, she was pleased to feel it was only slightly damp. It would be dry by tomorrow, she hoped.

After getting the pitchfork, Avalina tied Mitternacht to the hitching rail as she cleaned his stall bedding. Not a single bit of feed remained in the trough, and she chuckled softly as she swung into the last chorus.

"My friend bids me come and see

The Ravens in the library

Setting quiet pages free.

My friend bids me come and see

The Ravens in the library

Setting quiet pages free!"

Deciding she wasn't ready to quit singing just yet, she repeated the chorus a couple more times before launching into the song all over again as she cleaned the stall, put in fresh water, and went up to the loft to throw down some hay in the rack for Mitternacht.

Her singing grew softer as she brushed Mitternacht down. This was something she never hurried over. It was her special time with him, letting him know she valued him as so much more than a simple means of transportation. Her favorite time of day, and she knew her horse agreed with her.

Mitternacht fell into a trance-like state of contentment, licking his lips and cocking a back leg.

As she worked, Avalina wistfully wondered if she would ever be able to see an actual library again sometime. She had been in the Royal Library at the castle before, at the Princesses' invitation, and the sheer awe of seeing books racked from wall to wall and floor to ceiling had taken her breath away every time she entered.

There was just so much, so many words in that one grand room she would never be able to read in just one lifetime, she had wept with emotion the first time she had seen it, making Eilonwy panic and think she had offended her somehow.

Avalina chuckled softly at the memory, feeling a soft pain in her chest. She loved reading with a passion, but it was a pastime her lifestyle did not permit often. There was too much work to be done, too many things to do. . .

She sighed softly in regret. The books Eilonwy had let Avalina borrow for a while were still in the saddlebags in her room. She had given them to her yesterday when they had all been at Dalben's.

_'Good night, was it only yesterday?' _Avalina thought with a jump.

_'It feels like another lifetime altogether.'_

Shaking her head at the way time was flying, she continued to groom her horse as the storm raged on outside.


	19. Chapter 19

**Again, I own nothing but the story and my OC's. Everything else goes to Disney, Lloyd Alexander, and SJ Tucker. REVIEW!**

* * *

Chapter 19

* * *

"One for Sorrow

Two for Joy,

Three for Girls and Four for Boys.

Five for Silver

Six for Gold,

Seven for a Secret Never Told!

One crow Sorrow

Two crows birth,

Three a wedding, Four a birth.

Five crows silver, Six crows gold,

Seven Ravens curious and bold!"

Avalina took her time as she curried down her mount. Brushing him helped her think, and although she was still singing the song softly under her breath, almost to the point of humming, but it was in a bit of a detatched way, proving that her mind was no longer on the song and more occupied with her own thoughts, but humming out all the rhymes out of simple habit.

Carefully brushing out Mitternacht's thick tail, Avalina was only half there. The other half of her mind was wandering aimlessly, first around her family, her home, her friends and such, then drifting back to the barn, the situation she was in now, inevitably going back to the castle, and then. . ._Him._

She shivered slightly at the mere thought of the Master, a small spring of fear pooling inside her. Just thinking about his voice frightened her. It had been terrible, and if that confounded storm outside would ever quit. . .or at least die down. . .she would be out of here before someone could say plum pudding.

A muzzle gently butting her back brought her back to earth with a small jolt, and she half turned to see Mitternacht staring at her in concern. Realizing she had stopped brushing him, she rubbed his face gently.

"Its ok boy, I was just thinking," she told him, before going around his other side and starting to brush off his muscled shoulders.

"This castle is unsettling, Mitternacht," Avalina said, causing the horse flick his ears back to listen.

"This whole thing is unsettling. I didn't even know there _were_ any other castles in Prydain, other than the royal family's. And that's in the city. This one, as far as I can tell, is out in the middle of nowhere. Surely no one in Prydain other than pure royalty would have a castle. It would be considered highly disrespectful for anyone else to have one. Besides, only someone who was very rich could ever hope to keep one well maintained."

Her horse snorted as if to agree with her statement.

Thinking back, she could remember the interior of the castle being spotless in many areas, but she had noticed this morning when she went out that there was a few cobwebs here, a little dust there, and so forth and so on. Whether the servants were simply overworked, lazy, or the castle was understaffed were a few possibilities she could think of. The dishes that had been all over the stairs the night before had been all cleaned up, without even a chip of china to show where they had perished.

But back to the main question. . .were there any more castles in Prydain, and if so, where were they? Avalina resumed her thought. One of her first delirious thoughts when she woke up this morning was that maybe she'd been blown over into another country . . .now, she mentally scoffed at her naivety. . .that only happened in books. Besides, Prydain was surrounded by water on three sides, leaving only a narrow strip of land open to the rest of the world she had seen on maps. A mountain range guarded it, like a great row of uneven, jagged teeth.

Huffing slightly, she began to gently brush out her horse's mane.

So, obviously, she was still in Prydain. (She mentally groaned at her overactive imagination) So then. . .who in the world besides the royal family would own a castle?

Avalina frowned. It didn't make sense. It was possible that the ancient royal family had attempted to build one here centuries ago, but then out of convenience moved to the city, made one there and then someone else took the abandoned one over. . .or maybe they just had an estranged uncle who was an old hermit and they let him live there to keep him out of their hair. . .

Avalina sighed in frustration. Her ideas kept getting more and more improbable. She wished she knew the history of Prydain better.

_'I'm thinking far too much,'_ she thought a bit wearily, trying to keep her panic, which was getting stirred up again, at bay.

_'I'll have to ask for a map before I leave anyhow. I don't even know where I am.' _

For some reason that thought seemed to make her blood stop. Huffing, partly angry at herself for getting so worked up over nothing, and partly out of frustration at the situation she'd gotten herself into, she absently started braiding down a piece of Mitternacht's mane. She had already mentally kicked herself all around the country for being so stupid, but it didn't stop her from doing so again.

_'Why? Why, why, why, did I have to try to get home? I could have, *Should have*, just turned around, gone back to Dalben's, and waited there, but nooooooo. . .I had to be a hero. . .ye gods, what was I thinking? I can't believe I tried. I wish I was at Dalben's! Or home. Preferably home. Mother and Arran are worried sick about me, no doubt. I can see Mother thinking of all the absolute worst scenarios possible right now. Oh, how I wish I were home! Somewhere I knew I was safe.'_

Feeling a small prickle at the corners of her eyes she shook her head to clear it.

_'I shouldn't be thinking such things. The minute this storm quits I am leaving, no ifs, ands or buts about it. I'll give the Master my thanks, but I can't offer him anything else.'_

Avalina trembled again at the thought of talking to him again.

_'Oh, dear Fates, if you're listening, I beg of you to stop the storm so I can go home!'_

Mitternacht's loud snort brought her out of her thoughts with a jump. Putting a hand to her chest to ease her pounding heart, she turned around to say something to him. . .

And realized the stable door was wide open. The wind and rain from outside blew in leisurely, soaking the bare stone on the other end of the barn. And rolling towards her across the floor was a piece of parchment.

Mitternacht blew as she picked it up, keeping his eyes on the door. Avalina felt about for other presences besides her own, but sensed none. Unrolling the small piece of parchment, which was roughly the width of her palm and as long as her hand, she read a single sentence.

_The Master will see you now._

That was all.

Avalina suddenly felt like she'd been punched in the stomach. All the contentment that she had gathered over the course of the morning in the barn had hit rock bottom, along with what little courage she had amassed. And in its place was an ocean of fear, pushing up from her stomach, drowning her in it.

Shaking so badly she could scarcely stand up, she put Mitternacht back in his stall. Going to shut the barn door, she realized how late it was. The darkness was rolling in, and right behind it was another wave of storms.

_'I've been in the barn all day long,'_ she realized.

That wasn't uncommon, at home she did it all the time, but goodness, time had flown today! Her stomach rumbled suddenly, and Avalina realized she had actually been hungry for a while and just hadn't noticed. She hadn't eaten since early this morning.

After feeding Mitternacht his supper, she gave him a shaky scratch on his shoulder. "Wish me luck, boy," she whispered, before turning to walk out of the stall.

The horse, realizing something was wrong, ignored his feed and tried to follow her out. "No, boy, you can't," she told him as she latched the door, bumping it against his thick chest. "I'm sorry, but you can't."

Mitternacht snorted worriedly, showing the whites of his eyes as he nuzzled her shoulder and bumped against the door again, making the latch rattle.

Avalina, shaking, rubbed her horse's face and neck in a feeble attempt to comfort them both. "Its alright, boy," she said, trying to keep her voice steady, "I'm sure things will be fine. I'm probably overreacting about nothing."

Deep in her heart, however, she knew better. And her horse knew better. But if she did not comply with the Master's wishes, he could do something terrible to her or her horse, or both of them, and she did not want that.

Her mount's behavior only worried her more. Mitternacht, like all horses, seemed to have a highly tuned sixth sense about him, able to detect things people couldn't, and Avalina was seriously contemplating just sleeping in the barn tonight, when the barn door flew open again, more persistent this time. It crashed back against the wall, making Mitternacht lay back his ears and rear up, as if to face an enemy Avalina could not see.

He came down, crashing hard against the stall door, causing a foot long splinter to fly through the air and stick in the plank of another door across the hall from them. Whinnying a fierce challenge to any that would oppose him, he pawed the straw and hit the door again.

Avalina, frightened, grabbed his mane and pulled his head down. "Listen boy, its ok," she softly told him, "I'll be back."

Trying her best to keep her fear at bay, she slowly calmed him down. "I'll be back in the morning, ok?"

Mitternacht blew worriedly, staring at her in concern as she slowly walked across the barn to the door to collect her cloak. Looking back at him before she closed the door behind her, she called out one more time.

"I promise."

One last whinny was all she heard before the door slammed, leaving a wall between them both.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

* * *

Coming through the castle doors had taken more strength than Avalina knew she possessed. There had been a slight lull in the rain as she had ran across the courtyard, so her clothes had only been lightly speckled with raindrops.

Shivering, and not just from cold, she followed the torches as they guided her through a hall she had not visited yet. It may have been her fright playing tricks on her, but she could swear that this hall had more cobwebs and dust in it than the others she had seen. Even though it possessed the same amount of torches that all the other halls did, it seemed so much darker.

Every step she took felt like a mile between herself and home. The urge to turn around and flee back the way she came as fast as possible was overwhelming, and it took all her courage to keep going in her current direction. She didn't even know where she was going. At first, she felt like the hall might be going up, but then it felt like she might be heading down. . .there were several doors and other passages that were not lit, and her stomach tightened every time she passed one, nearly expecting something to leap out of nowhere at her.

Nothing did, but it didn't help her nerves much.

'_Oh, Fates, if your listening, have mercy on me!' _

She thought, trying to keep her imagination from getting too out of control at what could be waiting for her at the end of the hall.

_'I beg you, have mercy!'_

Except for the muffled crashing of the storm outside, the soft tap of her bootheels on the stone was the only audible sound, although Avalina fancied she kept hearing something like hushed whispers. Whether they were behind or ahead she could not tell. They would invariably silence when she stopped walking to listen closer. That scared her even more.

Her heart rammed against her ribs, not unlike how Mitternacht had rammed the stall door, as she forced herself to keep going, knowing that if she listened to the whisperings too long she would turn tail and run back down the hall. Looking back over her shoulder, however, she stopped dead in her tracks with a gasp of fright.

All the torches that had been lit all the way down the hall had been extinguished, leaving only pitch darkness where she had walked mere moments ago.

Shaking anew, she stared into the shadows behind the torches, trying to see any shadows, any movement, but there was nothing.

The torch beside her went out with a swish.

Nearly screaming in terror, Avalina turned and ran down the lit side of the hall as fast as she could go, terrified that all the torches would go out and leave her in total darkness. She didn't much care anymore what was waiting at the end, as long as there was light down there.

Looking behind her in fright, she didn't see the closed twin doors looming up in front of her until she almost hit them. Pulling herself up, her boots skidding softly on the stone, she whipped around to stare down the hall where all the torches were, gasping in fright. They were still burning steadily in the darkness.

_'This is stupid,' _she mentally scolded herself, trying to calm her racing heart.

_'Your getting all worked up about nothing again. Mother would be very concerned if she knew I'm letting my imagination rule me like this. I'm being completely irrational. Castles have drafts, I'm sure, a draft just hit the torches and a couple just. . .'_

Another torch down at the end of the hall went out, promptly followed by two more.

Another small gasp of fright escaped her lips as she turned back quickly to the massive doors, examining it.

_'Why isn't it open like all the others?' _She thought a bit frantically.

And then she remembered.

The royal castle at the city had a hall much like this, and the twin doors led to the reception hall, where the throne was and so forth. And then it all made sense.

_'Great stars,' _Avalina thought, shaking, _'The master's in there.'_

Her knees felt like they were about to give out.

_'And he's waiting for me.'_

Feeling like she had just been doused in a wave of icy water, she raised her shaking hand up to tap the old, weathered wood. . .

And jumped violently when they groaned open all by themselves.

They opened into a massive, well lit hall, that seemed far too long to be practical. The ceiling rose high above her, making the room appear even bigger than it was.

And down at the end she could make out a massive stone throne, on an elevated platform, enshrouded in shadows.

And there was someone in it.

Terrified, Avalina slowly came into the hall, just barely restraining herself from whipping around as the the door slammed shut, trapping her inside with the master. There was a harsh finality in the sound.

Barely able to put one foot in front of the other, she slowly came closer, not certain at whether to try and see the person or look away for fear of staring. Whoever it was hadn't taken their eyes off her since she came in. She could feel their gaze raking over her.

Stopping a few yards short of the steps leading up to the platform, uncertain on whether to go any further, she wondered how she was supposed to behave. This person lived in a castle, so did that mean they were royalty? Nearly panicking, she tried to remember how to act.

"Closer."

The voice grated out slowly, drawing the word out a bit, making Avalina's stomach rise to her throat. Biting her tongue, hoping the pain would keep her from passing out, she slowly came nearer till she was standing right at the base of the steps (Of which she counted five) leading up to the throne. She was now in the full light of the torches, in plain, clear view of the person above her.

Tentatively, she raised her face, hoping to at least get a glimpse of the master, but all she could make out was the wine-colored robe that covered his knees and flowed down to his boots, covering all but the toe. They appeared to be soft leather, the flexible type that fitted to your foot. The vague outline of a shape in the shadows was the only other thing she could see. From this angle and the way the torches had been lit, she couldn't see anything else, other that, even when sitting down, he was quite tall. Subconsciously, she narrowed her eyes to try and see him better in the darkness where he sat.

_"Don't *stare* at him, you idiot! Kneel, kneel, before he loses it!"_

A small voice whispered fiercely. A muffled "Ouch!" followed the statement, as if it wasn't meant to be heard.

Avalina's eyes widened at the shock of actually hearing one of those soft whisperings clearly for the first time, and then realizing what she had done. No one could look at royalty without permission! The king and queen of Prydain were rather lenient in that area, and she had forgotten her manners. People died for forgetting their manners in front of royalty.

Nearly choking in fright, realizing she had been staring at him, she forced her trembling knees into a somewhat clumsy kneel, keeping her eyes firmly on the floor, hoping her temporary lapse would not anger him.

"I'm s-sorry sir, please f-forgive my insolence. I-I d-didn't mean any h-harm," she stammered out, nearly visibly cringing at how pathetic she sounded.

A silence followed, during which she dug her fingers hard into the sides of her skirt, not daring to push her hair back that had fallen over the sides of her face. It would be better if she didn't move at all.

A very dark, rattling breath came from the shadows in front of her, freezing her heart, before it melded into speech.

"Get up."

The words were hard and cold, with no emotion at all. Trembling, Avalina did as he said, as her stomach threatened to seal off her airway and choke her.

"Look up."

This time the words had a faint but obvious ring of irritation in them, making the girl flinch noticeably this time. Tentatively, she slowly raised her face up to look back into the shadows at the throne where the figure sat, her eyes scanning the place over, searching for movement, features of some sort, anything that might distinguish him as more than just a shapeless silhouette.

Without realizing it, she furrowed her brows slightly as she tried to overlook the torches' glare. Starting at his knees. . .the best lit point she could see. . .her gaze traveled up the stone arms of the throne. . .where clearly his arms were, but she could not clearly make them out.

Working father up, she came to where she guessed his head was, and, narrowing her eyes, tried to concentrate on it. Vaguely, she caught a faint glimpse at what seemed like a rather gaunt, sunken face.

Before the darkness closed over her eyes again, she caught a very faint glimpse of movement, and her attention was drawn to up above his face. Concentrating, she made out a couple of odd-looking shapes, before her moment of clarity was gone again.

It had looked almost like. . .horns.

* * *

The Horned King's gaze had not left the girl from the moment the door came open. Observing her every move, her every intake of breath, he had watched her cross the room towards him, noting how she jumped when the massive doors closed.

Without quite realizing what he was doing, he reached a hand up a couple of inches off the throne arm, before catching himself and lowering it.

Her presence felt almost tangible enough to touch. He had nearly tried to himself. He could see her fear, sense it with every step she took. Just like all who came before him, she trembled in terror. And she did not even know who he was.

Why was her presence so strong? The Horned King narrowed his eyes slightly. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her. A dull green shirt with sleeves about three inches below her elbows, a dark brown sackcloth split skirt, no doubt for horseback riding, and farming boots covered her slim frame. All of her clothing was clearly peasant-made, matching the brush-farmer description she had given him last night.

Making her come forward more when she stopped too soon, he realized that she was not avoiding looking at the place he sat. Rather, she was looking up, right at him. All his followers in the past, and all his prisoners, had avoided looking at him if at all possible. And why not? He was terrifying, horrifying, and hideous to behold. Not even the bravest of men could ever look at him for longer than a moment or two without looking away in terrified revulsion. Not that he minded, it only gave him more power over them.

But she couldn't see him, he remembered. If she could see him it would be another story entirely.

Suddenly, he realized the girl was now kneeling at the foot of the steps, stammering out some sort of apology. He stared for a moment, temporarily lost, until he caught on. At his command she rose again, her hands fisted around the folds of her skirt. He could see her trembling from here, face turned down, masking her in shadow.

Faintly irritated that he had to speak again, he growled softly at her to look up. Shaking, she did so, and he was able to get the first good look at her face since she had arrived.

His first impression was that she was younger than he had thought last night from the balcony. Her eyes were too clear and her face too innocent to be as old as he had roughly estimated last night. At this moment she was rather pale in the torchlight, from fear most likely, and her eyes were a darker color he could not make out from this distance. A reddish, blueish abrasion above her right eye looked like it had been made very recently. It looked like the Invisibles had taken care of it, for it was already healing.

Her hair seemed to be a rough brownish shade, no two locks quite the same length as it fell around her face and shoulders in an unruly, curling mass to end about halfway down her back. She gave off the impression of having just came in from a tornado, with her frightened expression.

_'So,' _he mused, _'This is Avalina.' _

The name suited her, he decided.

Studying her, the Horned King realized in faint surprise she was looking back. . .no, staring back. . .into the shadows that hid him like a cloak, staring right at his face. Slightly taken aback, he moved slightly to make sure he stayed out of the torchlight. As he shifted, her gaze flickered upwards, and he realized she might have seen his horns.

_'Not that it matters much,'_ he thought. '_That knowledge won't save her.'_

His musings were interrupted by Avalina speaking.

"Sire?"

Faintly taken by surprise that she would dare to speak in his presence, he shifted slightly, before answering.

"You are quite the bold one, to look at me, child," he dredged out, feeling a twinge of satisfaction as he saw the girl start at the sound of his voice, "And even bolder to speak in my presence."

Dropping her gaze, she stammered out a quick, frightened apology.

"I'm sorry, S-Sire, I wasn't trying to be imp-pertinent."

The Horned King arched a brow muscle, again slightly surprised. _'For a common peasant she has quite a vocabulary,' _he mused, before answering.

"Say on."

After a moment, where it looked like Avalina was mentally trying to pull herself together, much to the Horned King's faint amusement, she spoke.

"I d-don't mean to impose, b-but the storm is still too strong f-for me to depart in. I-I was h-hoping you would allow me t-to s-stay another n-night? Plea-please?"

The Horned King pondered this question silently to himself. As she finished her sentence, he had felt her fear spike sharply, but this time, not towards him. It had seemed directed at the prospect of being out in the storm in the middle of the night.

Studying her more, he noticed the faint hitches of her breathing whenever the thunder or lightning crashed outside. It wasn't so audible inside the stone castle walls, especially here, in the center, but it was still the likes of which he had not seen in nearly a century.

_'This will work in my favor,' _the Horned King thought, making up his mind as a faint memory of the Fates pulled at him.

"You will stay."

Unaware that he had been leaning forward slightly, watching her, he settled back, watching relief work across her face as she got out her thanks.

"Th-Thank you, sir," Avalina managed, "I p-promise to leave as soon as I can."

The Horned King signaled to his Invisibles, which he could feel lurking about the room, to open the doors at the end of the hall. His eyes never leaving the girl down below him, he thought of one more thing.

"How old are you?"

Avalina seemed taken aback by this question, but she recovered.

"I'm fourteen, sir."

For some reason, the Horned King felt a part of his chest slowly sink. _'Too young,' _he thought.

Suddenly angry, he softly grated out his dismissal, careful to keep his voice even.

Avalina bowed and softly left, her presence leaving with her like a soft veil.

Again, The Horned King's right hand raised an inch or two as if to feel her aura between his fingers before the doors slammed shut and she was gone.


	21. Chapter 21

**If you've made it this far into my story I will be extremely hurt if you don't leave a freaking comment or review XD. I worked very hard on this thing, the least ya'll could do after reading it is let me know what you think about it. Thanks in advance ya'll! :D**

* * *

Chapter 21

* * *

The Horned King paced his chambers in fury, the crashing storm right outside the walls only fueling his hate.

_'Damn those Fates to the lowest level of Hell,' _he raged inside his head, a snarl of pure hatred rising out of his throat to echo in the room.

_'Their cruelty knows no bounds. They bring me back from the Cauldron, only to tell me that I have a limited time with which to achieve an impossible goal, in order to keep my soul from going back there, to *him*, for all eternity.'_

The Horned King could not stop a shiver that coursed through him at this thought. Echoes from the Cauldron threatened to suffocate him, but with an effort, he forcefully shoved them away.

_'And then a girl shows up here, and I will admit, __for a moment, a fleeting, fragile moment. . .she almost caused me to hope. After I expressly swore not to. Yes, I can hardly believe I allowed myself to fall into that trap. I must be more desperate than I thought to even think of hoping that this might end favorably. Hope is for the weak. Hope is for the pathetic. Hope is nothing but delusion. A delusion the powerful can use to manipulate the weak into doing anything they want. And the Fates have nearly manipulated me. I have become their toy, to dangle the prize in front of and hold it just out of my reach. The very thing I swore not to become! I cannot believe I allowed them to do that to me. Me! The Horned King. The most powerful conquerer the world has ever seen.'_

The Horned King snarled again, his eyes a bloody red, as he continued to pace the room.

_'Well, no more. This whole thing has been nothing but a game to them. They sent me back with the sole purpose of watching me suffer. Do they enjoy it? Watching me this way. It is true, I deserve no pity nor forgiveness for all I have done, all the souls I have killed, the people, the families, that my soldiers have ripped apart. The lands all laid waste. And I will receive none. My cruelty knows no bounds. I deserve nothing but torture, and when this is over, that is all I will get.'_

The Horned King quietened for a moment, contemplating what he knew awaited him when his deadline was up.

_'The Fates caused me to let my guard down for a moment by sending me that girl. And she's too young to be of any use to me. The Fates are probably laughing over the good joke they think they have played. I wonder how they will feel when an innocent girl dies for it?'_

Getting worked up again, he continued to pace the room, his eyes flashing in the darkness.

_'No doubt, they think they have won. They wanted to break me. Cause me to hope, which I so nearly blindly followed after, like one of my own prisoners, that I manipulated with that very emotion. He gave me all I needed, and when he was no longer useful, the things I had promised him. . .he watched them die in front of him. The last thing he felt was the grief of knowing he had betrayed his country, lost his family, and the sword through his chest.'_

The Horned King growled softly, murder evident in every ripple of sound.

_'I am going back to the Cauldron. That much is blatantly obvious. I am never going to hope, as I am heartless. Utterly so. I cannot feel nor comprehend such things as hope, peace, or love. And therefore, they are things I can never receive. I am the epitome of hopeless in the truest sense of the word.'_

Stilling again, he took a deep breath, regaining his control.

_'I promised myself one thing before they sent me back. I swore to kill the Pig-Keeper. And I will do so, even if I have to drag him down into the Cauldron with me. He will pay for all the torture I have received, and will receive. The last thing he sees will be my face.'_

Fangs bared in cruelest glee at the prospect, he continued pacing.

_'The Fates thought they could play a game of cat and mouse with me, hm? Taunting me with something I cannot feel. They will think very differently when an innocent soul dies because of their actions.'_

The Horned King's eyes shimmered back into darkness as he calmed himself.

_'Its really too bad it will be Avalina who suffers for their mistake.'_

* * *

"What were you thinking?! You dimwitted idiotic moron!"

The rant of a disembodied voice rang through the air, in a passage deep in the castle that had been cleaned only a few days ago. No more conversations the Invisibles had were held near dirty rooms anymore as a rule, much to a couple's chagrin.

"What I was *thinking* was 'Oh, she seems to be in a bit of a fix, I think I'll help her before her head's removed from her body!"

The sound of another voice answering the rant of the first spat. "Sometimes, its best to help people out while they're still in one piece! Not like your halfwitted idea, waiting til ol' Bonehead brought the guillotine out and *then* you deciding to toss in your two bits' worth!"

A third voice piped in. "Yeah, that idea was awful. I can't believe you actually told us to shut up when we came out with one that was obviously better!"

"But what did I receive for saving the girl's life?" The second voice continued sarcastically. "A token, a medal, a plaque, or some form of gratitude perhaps? Nope! Instead, I get a roundhouse kick to the shin, compliments of the dustmonger over there."

Said dustmonger groaned in exasperation. "I never wanted the girl to be harmed in any way! But the Fates gave us the strictest of orders. We are not to be heard while in the company of anyone other than the master and the goblin."

"Correction!" The third voice interrupted. "We weren't allowed to *Speak* to anyone except the master and the goblin, so there. We can make all the noise we want!"

As if to prove their point, both the second and third Invisibles bellowed loudly, in perfect sync.

"HELLOOOOOOO!"

"HELLOOOOOOO!"

The shouting echoed loudly through the halls, vibrating through the stones and causing a chunk of mortar to fall out of the wall and splat to the floor, sending pieces everywhere.

Groaning, the first Invisible facepalmed. "You immature brats. YOU are cleaning that up. And you'll both *shut up* if you know what's good for you!"

The second one wheezed in barely restrained mirth. "Whatever you say. . .Dusty."

The two dissolved into laughter as the fourth presence walked around the corner and spied the situation.

"You bellowed?" The fourth asked, clearly oblivious to what had just transpired. This only caused more laughter from the duo, which in turn brought another groan from the first.

"It was just these idiots being stupid, as usual," the first one huffed, with a little more venom than normal.

"Were you lecturing them on letting the girl hear them?" The fourth asked quietly.

"Yes! Yes I was! The Fates will be furious at them for that. Furious at me for not shutting them up quicker. They gave us one job to do, *One job*. . .and those two maniacs can't even do what they're told."

"In all honesty, though, I believe they did the right thing," the fourth one answered kindly. "You know how the Master has absolute zero tolerance for anything less than perfection. He could have killed the poor girl for staring at him like that and not kneeling immediately."

"I don't think he would have this time," the first replied. "Did you see his face when she came in? I have never seen him look like that. He thought he looked completely impassive, but he couldn't fool me. I was standing right by him. He raised his hand out toward her when she entered, like he wanted to. . .welcome her maybe?"

The other two Invisibles, recovered from their laughing fit, came up. "I felt her presence when she walked in the room," the second said. "I actually thought I could reach out and touch it, it was so strong. Apparently Bonehead thought so too."

The pair broke up in cackles again.

". . .Bonehead?" The fourth inquired.

"Oh, yes," the first one grumbled. "They can't even call him by his title anymore. Last week it was SOF. . "

"What?" the fourth asked, confused.

"Stole-On-Fire," the first clarified. "And the week before that it was Randall the Reindeer. . .What a disgrace."

"Yep!" The second one piped, "And a month ago," it broke off, nearly gagging on laughter, before it managed to finish the sentence, "It was Stanley!"

The fourth one choked, doing a valiant effort to control the laughter.

The third one laughed. "You should be very afraid with what we will come up with next, because I promise, they're only going to get worse! Muhahahah!"

The two cackled together madly.

The first Invisible groaned. "May the Fates have mercy on me."

The fourth, after a long moment, and several deep breaths, pulled it together. "I'd ask the Fates to have mercy on the Master instead. With those two he's going to need all he can get."

Here, the first one's voice hardened. "He doesn't deserve mercy."

"True," the fourth replied, "But we shouldn't speak of such things. It isn't our place."

"So does this mean we can lock him in his room?" The second presence asked, a little too eagerly.

"And paint his horns while he's asleep?"

"And make a trapdoor under the rug?"

"Can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we. . ."

"Can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we-can-we. . ."

"No!" The first Invisible shouted over the barrage of questions. "No, you may not!"

Groans and sobs of disappointment broke out immediately.

"Aw, come on!"

"Why not?"

"It'll be fuuuuuuuuuuuuun!"

"Your no fair!"

"Why can't you ever be fun?"

"Your gonna wither up and DIE if you don't start enjoying yourself!"

"Silence!" The first Invisible shouted, causing the groans to die down. "We have a Job to do!" Glaring over at the fourth, it grumbled, "And you're not helping."

"My apologies," the fourth managed out. "I was just having too much fun thinking about the Master getting hit by a trolley in the middle of the night."

Laughter rang all through the hall for many minutes afterward.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Avalina felt so lightheaded with relief when the massive doors closed behind her, with a barrier now between herself and the master, that she had to lean against the wall for several minutes until the blood stopped thundering in her ears.

He had been watching her like a hawk. She had felt his hard gaze on her the instant the doors had came open, and it had not left the entire time. The air had felt so thick and heavy she could've sworn she would suffocate.

When her strength finally returned she had hurried to her room, the torches lit again. She only looked behind her once, seeing the torches extinguish themselves behind her.

_'I'm guessing that's normal around here,'_ she thought shakily to herself.

Now, in her room, she was pacing again, thinking and fighting off paranoia. The servants had left her a meal before she returned, which she was grateful for, but after eating she had taken up her nervous habit again.

_'How much longer can this storm *last?*'_ She thought frantically to herself.

_'Its been like this for two days nonstop. I've never even heard of a storm this bad. Mother's fearing the worst, no doubt. Maybe she'll think I just stayed at Dalben's to wait out the storm. Oh, how I wish I had! And Dalben. . .he probably thinks I made it home, or he's worried too. I'm sure glad we got his roof fixed before this thing hit though, or he'd be floating out of his house on the door while rowing with a soup-ladle.'_

Avalina gave a soft chuckle at that mental image, before sobering again.

_'I have to get home, the sooner the better. I do not like this place. It is unnerving. The master is terrifying. I've never been more frightened out of my mind in my life than I am when I'm in the same room with him. And I haven't even seen his face! He stays hidden in the shadows, and I get the coldest feeling in my stomach when he talks. . .The evil is nigh penetrable here, despite the fact that nothing has threatened me, and I and my horse have both been given the best of care possible. I am certain its not my paranoia playing with my mind this time. I have to get out of here as quickly as possible.'_

Avalina groaned as she sat on the edge of the bed to rest her feet. They weren't hurting as badly as they had this morning, but they still throbbed with a dull ache, making it slightly hard to think.

Carefully feeling the gash above her left eye, she continued thinking.

_'I was an idiot to stay. I should have left today, regardless of the storm. I know its just as bad as it was when I came here, but I'm starting to think I'll be better off taking my chances with Mother Nature than stay here any more. Why didn't I leave today? Why? I'm such an idiot. I should trust Mitternacht more. He won't take me over a cliff. . .he's smart. He knew what he was doing, taking us here, but now its time to leave. I should leave tonight, right now, but I'm so tired. . .and I know Mitternacht is too. He'll be raring to go tomorrow. I'm pretty sure he'll be as eager to get home as I am.'_

Trying to keep her nerves at bay and keep calm, Avalina pulled the covers over herself and lay back on the pillow, firmly making up her mind.

_'I don't care if its still storming, we're leaving first thing in the morning. Its time to get home.'_

* * *

Creeper, after feeding the gwythaint and giving it fresh water for the night, shut the door to the stable behind him and prepared to run across the courtyard and into the castle. He paused, however, looking at the other stable on the opposite side of the massive courtyard, silhouetted by the lightning.

The human's horse was in there.

After a pause, Creeper headed to the other stable.

He had no desire to go back into that dark, empty castle only to skulk around and hide from his master and work at staying out of the human's sight just yet. His master had forbidden him to see the human, but he hadn't said anything about the horse.

Creeper's experience with horses was next to nothing. A few of his master's men had had horses for a while at some time or another, but from snatches of talk he had overheard while eavesdropping, they had all invariably lost their minds and had to be destroyed. They would become so insane with terror no one could get within twenty feet of them.

Creeper had seen only one type of horse. The type that always stood with their head down, their ears drooped, all the spirit and life gone from them. The dull, listless look in their eyes. The ones with no hope. All of the horses his Master's men rode had carried that look until they died.

Then there was the kind Creeper had only heard his master's men speak of. . . the crazed, foaming creatures with wild white-rimmed eyes that would do everything under the sun to get away from you before they dropped dead from an arrow to the skull or heart.

Creeper wanted to see which type this horse was. Surely it would be the first type. That human girl didn't look very strong. It would probably be a small one with a broken spirit, something the girl could control without a problem.

Creeper grinned. Pushing someone else around always made him feel better.

* * *

In the pitch blackness of the stable, it was warm and dry. The storm outside could be heard, but it was muffled in here, among the wood and hay. The lightning would occasionally shine through the cracks in the walls, but like everything else, it was muted down.

The horse's breathing was soft and steady, in and out smoothly. A back leg was cocked, all muscles relaxed, eyes closed. His ribs lifted and sank like the evening tides, in an even, steady rhythm. Even while sleeping, there was a deliberate, formidable power in every movement that could not be concealed. He knew exactly what he was capable of.

Like all animals, horses know when something is off. Most of the time, they are better attuned to their surroundings than people. Anything out of place, anything that should not be. . .horses know.

The soft grating of the stable door at the end of the hall coming open immediately stirred the animal.

A pair of deep, black eyes opened. The ears immediately stood up for a moment, before pinning back to the horse's neck.

He knew his rider. He would know her anywhere, even if she was not in sight. Her scent, her voice. . her step.

And this was not her.

The horse carefully lifted his feet, setting them back down in the straw like a cat stalking a mouse, slowly turning himself sideways against the back wall, where he could see everything. The front, the sides, and the door. His nostrils flared wide to identify the intruder, His eyes opened wider to make up for the almost zero lighting in the stable, and his ears cocked forward as the door was stealthily pushed shut.

* * *

Creeper slowly pushed the door closed behind him, before lighting the lantern. Holding it above his head as much as he could without burning himself, the goblin half-walked, half-jumped across the floor.

Only one stall door was shut, indicating to Creeper that was the place of the horse's residence.

Seeing a stool nearby, he dragged it over, before hopping on it, then climbing onto the bottom half of the split stall door, gripping the post for support.

Hanging the lantern above his head on a nail, he looked into the stall, which was now filled with dim light.

The darkness receded as the lantern was lifted, revealing something that made Creeper's eyes widen in shock.

The biggest, blackest horse the goblin had ever seen stood by the back wall. A bushing, curling mass of black mane fell over the horse's neck and shoulders, reaching the bottom of the horse's wide chest. A pair of dark eyes watched the goblin through a thick black forelock as a pair of ears flicked forward to focus on him.

Creeper gulped as he took it all in. Suddenly, even the gwythaint looked small compared to this animal.

Creeper shook himself. What was he doing? This horse was no different than the others. It would cower if you got rough with it.

"You're not so tough," Creeper mocked as he swayed back and forth over the top of the stall door. "If that human can handle you, so can I."

The horse immediately pinned its ears at the sound of the goblin's voice, his thick tail swishing once. Creeper could have sworn the animal narrowed its eyes at him in an inviting gesture.

Creeper pried an old dirt-dauber nest off the wall and pulled his arm back.

The horse tossed his head once and blew through his nose, the noise sounding like the soft roar of a bellows, making Creeper pause a moment.

The horse tightened his muscles as Creeper took careful aim. . .

The dried mud had scarcely left the goblin's hand when the horse kicked off the ground with his powerful hindquarters, clearing the length of the stall in one leap, front legs curled beneath him, his head and neck arcing out like a snake, aiming straight for the goblin.

Creeper screamed and lost his footing, falling to the floor just outside the stable as the horse snaked his neck over the stall door, aiming for the goblin on the floor.

How Creeper kept from getting bitten, no one but the Fates will ever know. All he could do was roll blindly on the floor and pray he got out the way fast enough. The popping "Clack!" of the horse's teeth coming together to grab nothing but air right next to him a dozen times in a row was deafening.

After a few moments Creeper managed to roll far enough away to get out of the animal's range, whereupon he promptly leapt to his feet to stare at the black beast with its ears pinned flat against its head, still trying to get at him.

A shaky laugh of relief and triumph escaped the goblin.

"Aha, can't get me now, you foul creature!"

The horse snorted loud enough to kick up the dust on the stone floor outside the hall and pawed the door once, glaring fiercely at the little creature that dared to bother him, try to hit him and was now mocking him. Never taking his eyes off the goblin, he slowly backed farther into the stall, the door and the darkness covering him.

Still shaking in complete shock over what had just happened, Creeper turned to leave, when a quick rush of vibration and rustling straw made him whip around just in time to see a monstrous black creature clear the stall door like it was nothing and land gracefully in the hall, the vibration of the impact knocking over a stack of empty buckets propped against the wall.

The sparks from the horse's shoes flashed brightly in the dim lighting.

A brilliant streak of lightning flashed outside, outlining the animal in brilliant silver. The lantern light reflected off his black coat like new gold, and for a single moment, Creeper looked up at the horse's head as he reared his front end up to strike.

Its ears were pulled back so tightly they could no longer be seen inside the thick mane, and from underneath the lacquered black forelock, the animal's eyes appeared blood red. So did the insides of the horse's nostrils.

The horse snorted once, the small amount of smoke from the lantern issuing from his nose, pure malicious laughter dripping from the sound.

That was all Creeper could take in before it charged at him, roaring like an enraged predator.

The clanging and clashing of all the buckets falling over, coupled with the muffled Boom of thunder from outside, lent back-noise to the action as the goblin ran for his very life. This thing was going to kill him! Really kill him!

_'Horses aren't supposed to act like this!'_ He thought as he ran down the hall as fast as he could.

_'Their the prey, not the predator!'_

Apparently this horse had never bothered to read the instructions on how to be a prey animal, or it had and decided to turn predator, but whatever the cause, it was out for goblin blood tonight.

Biting and striking ferociously, the horse's shoes sparked off the stone as he chased the little pest all over the barn. His snorts of rage and bloodlust made Creeper's skin crawl in terror as he pumped harder. . .

The horse cleared him in a single massive leap, causing the goblin to brake to a halt. As the horse skidded a bit on the stones as he turned back toward Creeper, leaving white scuffmarks on the floor, the goblin turned tail and fled down toward the other end of the hall, screaming all the way.

The horse gained on him like the darkness itself, long strides covering the distance effortlessly. The ground vibrated hard enough to make the buckets scattered all over the hall jump off the stone like massive jumping beans.

Creeper aimed for one of said buckets that had been knocked over, reaching out desperately. . .he grabbed the rim and hauled himself inside right as his hiding place was dealt a skull-crushing kick and went airborne.

The bucket flew, rolled, bounced and clattered alternately across the hall, only leaving the air to hit the floor or bounce or ricochet off the walls with wild abandon. And the instant the horse got close enough, it would strike the bucket again, causing it to continue its aimless journey.

Creeper jolted around inside the bucket like a potato, his teeth rattling uncontrollably. The bucket just wouldn't stop moving! Creeper hadn't thought about it any, but the flight with the gwythaint he had taken a month ago came back to his mind as he and his bucket was kicked wildly around the barn. He couldn't see, couldn't get a grip on anything, all he could hear was the racket of the wooden bucket with its metal rings hitting the stone, and the sound of hooves striking both.

_'I'm gonna die!'_ He realized in terror.

The bucket was dealt another vicious kick, arcing high through the air to hit the ground hard.

Like a giant spring it shot back up, flying high. It gave two more massive leaps across the stone, to be dealt a final harsh blow from the iron shoes.

It shot across the rest of the hall like an arrow in flight, straight into the massive doors that led to the courtyard.

Here, the bucket, after being kicked half a dozen times by something that could pull down a tree, collapsed in eighty pieces all over the stone floor, wood bits flying in three thousand different directions to land in twice as many places.

The goblin, completely dizzy, dazed, and nearly unconscious, pulled his face out of the floor. . .

To see the horse coming straight at him like a starving werewolf. And it looked like he had brought six or seven buddies. . .they were all charging too!

The door came open, allowing the goblin the chance to escape. Half reeling, half running, he staggered out of the stable right as the horse struck the door with his front hooves and leaned out to grab the goblin. . .

A ripping noise was heard, followed by the slamming of the door, the sound of hooves striking against the wood twice. . .once out of fury, the second out of halfhearted disappointment that the fun was over. . .and then a screaming whinny of victorious triumph that echoed all through the hall and carried well out into the lashing storm.

If anyone had been watching from one of the castle windows, they would have seen a half naked goblin running pell-mell across the courtyard in the flashes of lightning screaming something about a demon.

* * *

**REVIEW! I BEG OF YOU! XD**


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

The silence rang against her eardrums like a gong, snapping her instantly from sleep.

Avalina's eyes came open to stare at the wall, her heart thumping a little harder than necessary against her chest.

Something was off.

Something was different.

Quickly sitting up in bed, she gave her room a bleary-eyed once-over. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

The fire had banked down during the night, but although it was nearly out, Avalina didn't exactly feel cold.

And then she realized the problem.

There was no noise.

Remembering the deafness she had temporarily acquired a couple nights ago, she frantically put her hands up near her ears and snapped her fingers a few times, panicking that she may have lost her hearing again while she slept.

The utter relief when she realized nothing was wrong with her ears was staggering, but it still seemed too quiet.

Yawning, Avalina climbed out of bed and walked the five steps to the thick wooden door-like item that kept the elements from blasting through the single window the room possessed.

Flipping the latch, she pushed the window open. . .

And realized the reason for the absurd silence.

It was no longer storming. It wasn't even raining anymore. And the air smelled cleaner, fresher, like it always did after a rain. Avalina breathed deeply, feeling more awake.

Stretching, she looked down over the sill, taking in everything for the first time.

The courtyard. . .or what little of it she could see from this angle. . .was rather empty. Around the left corner she could see the stables and a few smaller buildings. In front of her the drawbridge was closed, with a massive moat stretching out all around the castle.

Farther out to her left, beyond the moat, she could see a massive lake that seemed to stretch for miles. She could barely see the trees on the opposite bank from here. They were so far away they looked like little bushes.

Her eyes widened as she took in the land beyond the moat, that stretched likewise around the castle.

A wide strip of brown was all she could see for miles. Not a single sprig of green was to be seen in that stretch. Like a pestilence had rained down from the sky and struck anything in its way. Skeleton trees here and there were the only thing that wasn't beaten to the ground, which was no doubt mud now after the heavy storm. Their long, twisting branched looked bare and defenseless without their cover of green, as they stood like undead soldiers in the strip of wasteland.

Avalina puzzled at this.

_'Why does nothing grow here?'_ She thought. _ 'Being right by a lake, it should be just as green as everything else.'_

Several miles back, Avalina saw the lush, rolling hills and forests stretching up into cliffs, leading her eye back to something familiar. It was all so green, and a thin mist barely clung to it all. Her heart jumped joyfully as she took it all in, before realizing something else.

There was no sun.

Dark, moody looking clouds covered the sky above the castle and its wasteland, but Avalina noticed where the brown ended, so did the shadow. Sunlight was trying to come out over the lush forests beyond, trying to burn off the light fog.

But there was no sunlight here.

_'I know this place,'_ she thought, furrowing her brow as she turned her head to look at the lake again.

_'This is the old lake castle. I remember now! Eilonwy said this castle was King Rhitta's, two hundred years ago. She said it had fallen into disrepair, and no one has used it since, except. . .'_

Avalina gasped out loud.

_'This is the castle the Horned King took over when he was trying to conquer Prydain!'_

Her stomach twisted so violently she had to grip the window tightly to keep from falling to the floor.

_'Oh, gods!'_

Now it made sense. That barren wasteland stretching out before her was dead for a very good reason. No growing things, no sun. . .

Avalina shook as she tried to keep her legs from giving out on her.

_'Calm down, calm down!'_ She told herself frantically.

_'The Horned King is dead. Taran killed him. Eilonwy told me so, she was there for the whole thing, she saw it herself. The Horned King is gone, he can't hurt anyone anymore.'_

_'__Oh really?'_ Her mind thought. _ 'And just who runs this castle now, anyway?'_

She was suddenly back inside the throne room where she had spoken to him last night.

_*'Concentrating in the gloom, her narrowed eyes made out a couple of odd-looking shapes above where she guessed his head would be, before her moment of clarity was gone._

_They had looked almost like. . .horns.'*_

Avalina felt like she was going to be sick from terror.

_'I have to get out of here. Now! The Horned King is Not dead, he's alive! I knew this place felt evil!'_

Stumbling over to the bed, she began to shakily pull her clothes on. The logical side of her mind kept telling her she was panicking unnecessarily, but her common sense told her otherwise.

_'How? How?!'_ Her mind screamed.

_'It shouldn't be possible! He was Dead! Taran killed him! And Eilonwy doesn't lie!'_

Nearly falling more than once, she yanked on her boots.

_'I don't care what Eilonwy said or what logic says. He's back, and I have to warn Prydain! I know where I am now, I can find my own way back!'_

Grabbing her saddlebags she was out the door, not bothering to touch the breakfast sitting on her little table.

* * *

Nearly crashing through the stable door, she hurried over to Mitternacht's stall. As he poked his head over the door she blew out a sigh of relief, grateful he was alright.

Tossing her saddlebags over the hitching rail she grabbed her bridle and went to Mitternacht.

"I'm so sorry, boy," she told him as she quickly unbolted his door and came inside.

"I know you want your breakfast but you're going to have to wait until we get back. . .what's this?"

Something was hanging slightly out of the horse's mouth, held tightly in his teeth.

"Come on, boy, let me see what it is."

Mitternacht was not keen on letting go of his prize, whatever it was, and Avalina had to gently urge him to open his mouth and drop it.

Finally, the horse complied, blowing mucus all over her clothes as he did so.

"Mitternacht!" Avalina snapped, heavily annoyed.

The horse snorted in equine laughter and nuzzled her shoulder.

Grumbling, she wiped the front of her shirt off with a handful of loose hay as she examined the object her horse clearly prized, rubbing her horse's muzzle to let him know she wasn't angry anymore.

It appeared to be a piece of cloth of some sort, the kind most cloaks and capes were made of. Not heavy, but durable. It was dark blue, about eight inches long and three inches wide. With all the hanging threads and jagged edges, it looked like it had been torn violently off the bottom of someone's cloak.

At least, that's what it appeared to be. Mitternacht had drooled it into a sopping, shapeless mass, preventing any completely accurate assumption.

Looking up from it, Avalina saw her horse prancing lightly around the spacious stall, acting like he'd been named a hero.

"What have you been up to, boy? Did someone come in here last night?"

She tried to ignore the chill that crept up her spine at the thought.

The horse snorted and pawed the straw, before tossing his head and coming back to sniff the fabric Avalina held.

"I'm guessing that's a yes and you scared him off?"

Chuckling at the mental image of the poor soul that would dare mess with Mitternacht, she lay the cloth down on the top of the wall and slid her horse's bridle on.

"Ok, boy, we'll take it, whatever it is. I swear, you pick the oddest trophies. . ."

* * *

The horse was ready in ten minutes. A new record.

Avalina was just tying the saddlebags in place when the stable door at the end of the hall came open.

Just as it had before, a breeze kicked a rolling piece of parchment over to where she stood.

Feeling an unpleasant knot in her stomach, she picked it up.

The Master will see you.

Feeling the knot tighten considerably, Avalina took his reins in her shaking hands and led her horse to the door.

This was not a good idea. It was a terrible idea. Every part of her screamed no to this, but she had no choice. She would have had to ask the master to lower the drawbridge anyway.

As she loosely looped the reins over the hitching post by the door, the horse moved his body around where he blocked the exit.

Snorting, he pawed once and tossed his head in his version of a "No!" As if to say, "Your not going back in there! Let's go home!"

Shivering slightly, Avalina rubbed his neck.

"I have to go in, boy. One more time. I have to lower the drawbridge so we can get out of here. I'll be back, ok?"

With effort, she managed to pry him away from the entrance. He clearly didn't want her to go back in there, and it chilled the girl.

When he blocked her a third time she had no choice but to tightly tie him to the post. His antics were scaring her and the faster she got this over with the better.

Rubbing his face gently, she kissed his muzzle before heading back into the castle.

Mitternacht whinnied loudly from the stable, the worry evident in every syllable.

Avalina's heart raced as she stepped inside the castle, the doors once more opening without her having to touch them. As Mitternacht's whinny rang threw the air she felt quite chilled.

_'Does he know something I don't?'_


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

The trip to the throne room seemed twice as long as it had last night, but Avalina forced herself to keep a steady pace instead of tiptoeing by like she had last time. She had to go home, she was going home and not even the master. . .she chilled all over again at the idea of just who it might be. . .could stop her. Prydain must be warned immediately if her suspicion was correct.

Just thinking about him stood her hair on end and she shivered. It took all of her control to keep from fleeing on the spot. The only reason she was going anyway was to ask him to lower the drawbridge.

Why he would want her again was strange. Maybe he knew she had been trying to sneak out?

When the doors loomed into sight Avalina thought she would drop.

_'I can't go in there!'_ Every muscle and thought screamed at her.

_'Oh yes you can!'_ Her heart told her firmly. _ 'For your family, friends and country, you can and *will* go in there, or you're not fit to be a native of Prydain! A brush-farmer either, of all things. The people of Prydain are not cowards, and neither are you.'_

As she raised her hand to knock, the doors came open by themselves, just like before, and although she walked significantly slower now, she did not dare to give in to herself and stop. It would be over if she did that.

Approaching the bottom of the steps to the throne, she knelt for a long moment before rising, deciding to speak first and get this over with.

"You wanted me, sir?" She asked softly. If she dared to try and raise her voice it would portray the true extent of her terror.

A short pause followed, before she heard a rasping breath being drawn slowly in, and the deliberate, grating voice that followed.

"Are you leaving?"

Avalina's stomach jerked at this but she kept her composure.

"Yes, sir. The storm is over, and I will be on my way as I promised."

"Why so soon?" His voice ground out, echoing in the chamber.

Avalina willed her voice not to crack.

"My family is worried sick about me, sir, and it is time I got home. Although I am truly g-grateful for your hospitality and providing me shelter. It will not be forgotten. I humbly request you to lower the d-drawbridge? Please?"

Avalina slowly raised her head, up to where the throne was. Just as before, she could see nothing of his face.

A pause.

"Stay."

Another pause.

"Please."

Avalina fought to keep her breath even, choosing her words carefully. The first word had sounded like a command, the second might have been a request if his voice had not still carried that authoritative monotone.

"I can't, sir. Although your offer is generous, I h-have to get home. My family needs me very much."

"I insist you stay."

Avalina fought to keep from losing her composure.

"I am sorry, sire, but I can't."

On sudden impulse she added, "I don't even know who you are."

A soft noise that might have been a chuckle came from the shadows.

"Would you like to know?"

Avalina's stomach twisted harder as she picked her words as carefully as she could.

"What I meant is, sir, that I haven't seen your face these past days."

Another, darker chuckle followed, making Avalina's terror clinch at her heart.

"As you wish."

Something about those three words made Avalina feel like her chest would cave in.

A soft rustling of fabric drew her eyes up again to the throne, and she realized he was now standing, descending the steps slowly.

Avalina's eyes traveled up his robe, taking in his hands at his sides, instantly knowing something was very wrong. His hands were skeletal and a dark, sickly green, and long claws adorned the ends of his fingers.

A brown fur stole covered his shoulders and fell down his back, nearly reaching his feet, being held together at the front with a gold-colored crescent-shaped pin.

As he continued to descend, the rest of his body came into the light, lastly his face, and here Avalina gasped aloud, shock and horror rendering her completely immobile.

His face was skeletal and sunken in, the same shade of green skin stretching over the bones underneath. No nose to speak of, pronounced cheekbones, a mouth full of fangs and uneven teeth, and large eye sockets that were nigh hollow.

But they were not hollow. They were the blackest, emptiest looking eyes Avalina had ever seen, but she could feel them boring deep into her, right into her very soul, rooting her to the spot.

Two pairs of horns. . .a smaller pair up front and a larger, more bull-like set sitting behind those, proudly adorned his head, a little off to the sides but still situated near the center of his skull. They stuck out of holes cut inside the hood of his wine-colored robe, no doubt for that very purpose. They were the same color as his face and hands.

"Y-y-you!" Avalina choked out, shaking uncontrollably now. "Y-y-y-you're the H-Horned K-K-King!"

A soft chuckle came from the being, who had paused on the last step from the bottom, staring at her.

"I see I have not been forgotten."

Stepping off the last step, he continued.

"Which is why you cannot leave."

Avalina, having been completely frozen in place in terror up to this point, shook herself out of it as she realized in horror he was practically at arm's length from her and closing.

Only one thought managed to process successfully, but it was enough.

_'Run.'_

With a scream of pure terror, she turned and ran for her very life.

Out the doors and through the winding corridors (Which were still lit) Avalina ran for all she was worth, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried to pump even harder.

_'Run! Faster, faster! You have to get out of here, NOW!'_

A thunderous crash echoed through the castle that was nearly deafening.

Avalina shrieked and tripped over a stone that wasn't laid quite as smoothly as the rest, crashing hard to the floor. She was up and running again before she quite realized what she had done.

_'Run, Run, RUN! Warn Prydain! Warn Prydain!'_

Avalina saw the door up ahead, leading to the balcony overlooking the entrance room to the castle.

_'Almost there, almost there. . .'_

Heart racing a mile a minute, Avalina tried to run even faster.

_'You have to warn Prydain he's back! Oh gods, he's back!'_

Reaching the door and realizing it wasn't going to open for her this time, Avalina turned the knob and shoved against it with all her might.

For one, horrifying second she thought it was locked, until it came open and nearly threw her onto the balcony.

Avalina barely had time to regain her footing before she looked toward the steps. . .

Only to see the Horned King standing right in front of her, half obscured by the thick shadows.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her roughly to him, nearly holding her off the ground as he lifted her arm above her head.

Her terrified scream was sharply cut off as his other hand closed around her throat.

Releasing her wrist, he turned his left hand around his head in a somewhat swirling motion as she instinctively tried to loosen his hand around her neck.

Choking, Avalina felt her eyes fill with tears of terror as she desperately tried to breathe. If air had not been her main priority as the moment she would have gagged at the thought of touching him, but that was currently the last thing on her mind.

_'I don't want to die!'_

A crash like thunder smashed painfully against her ears, and she was vaguely aware of a reddish, smoke-like substance surrounding them.

The Horned King moved forward as it cleared, pulling her helplessly alongside him as if she weighed nothing at all.

Avalina tried to beg for mercy, but nothing would come out. As he pulled her in front of him, his piercing glare bored right into her face, and she felt like her ribs and chest had turned to ice in pure terror. His eyes could freeze a desert.

As she struggled harder, his eyes lit up a brilliant red, his pupils black slits against the bloody background.

Black spots clouded her vision, making the Horned King look all the more horrifying.

The tears kept flowing as her struggles weakened, and she knew she was seconds away from passing out.

Avalina knew she was going to die as her legs gave out from under her. But she didn't want the Horned King to be her last coherent thought in this life, so she shut her eyes and focused elsewhere.

_'I'm so sorry Momma! I love you so much!'_

Air suddenly entered her lungs, allowing her to breathe again.

Dropping to the ground on her knees and elbows, she choked and gagged as her respiratory system kicked into overhaul, making up for the time lost and pumping fresh air through her lungs.

A door slamming caused her to tearfully look up, her vision still speckled.

The Horned King stood there, not six feet in front of her.

Falling back in terror, she became aware of the bars between them. In a flash she comprehended that she was in the dungeon at the prison level of the castle.

Staring down at her with those flaming eyes, the Horned King rumbled,

"Maybe this will teach you not to run from me."

"Please, sir, let me go home," Avalina pleaded as fresh tears worked down her face.

"Please? I don't want to stay here. My family needs me. I beg of you, don't keep me here!"

The Horned King glared harder at her.

"And have you running off to tell all of Prydain of my return? I think not."

Turning, he slowly made his way through another door to a flight of stairs, no doubt leading back up to the main levels.

"You are staying here."

Weakly getting to her feet, Avalina held herself up against the bars.

"Please, Sire, no! I can't stay here! I can't!"

The slamming of the door was her answer.

The last shreds of shattered hope that had fluttered vainly in the air turned to ashes as nothing but black despair filled her broken heart.

Avalina crumpled to the stone floor and sobbed.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

As ordered, the Invisibles had informed him when Avalina was about to leave. Not that she could, of course, he had ordered the drawbridge to be raised last night, but the idea that she would try to slip away still angered him.

When she had entered the throne room her presence was the same as before, so tangible in the air he nearly raised his fingers to try and feel it again, but this time he kept himself in check.

He had watched as she knelt before him, and just as he was about to order her to get up, she did so without him having to say a word.

This surprised him. Nobody ever rose until he ordered it.

Frowning slightly, he opened his mouth to say something. . .

Only to realize she had beat him to it.

Seeing no reason to procrastinate, he got straight to the point, feeling the Invisibles slip into the room.

When the girl refused, he did something he had never did before.

He asked.

Said the word, "Please," to be precise.

The Horned King never asked for anything. He simply took it. But a tiny voice in the back of his head urged him to try and act civilly. The girl would not cooperate if he demanded it of her.

And so, he ground out the very first "Please" he had ever spoken in his life.

And she had still refused.

The Horned King's temper snapped then, but no one could tell, as his voice stayed the same.

The girl was terrified, per usual, but this time her terror seemed a bit different, and it was confirmed when she stammered something about not having seen him.

This was the opportunity he had been waiting for since she set foot in the castle, made all the more sweet by the fact that she already had an idea of who he was.

Deliberately, he rose from his throne and slowly descended the steps, never taking his eyes off her, not wanting to miss a moment.

He watched as her eyes traveled up, to his hands, chest. . .and then his face.

The look of shocked horror on the girl's face, unable to move in her fright, was exactly the reaction he had been wanting.

She didn't move a muscle, staring right into his eyes, until he was less than an armlength from her.

Then the girl seemed to wake up from her terrified stupor and ran for all she was worth.

The Invisibles had left the door open this time, but it didn't matter. She could not escape him.

The Horned King teleported himself to the balcony where he knew she was headed and waited.

As she fled into the room, she noticed him right as he loomed up in front of her, but it was too late.

Her scream was choked off as he pulled her to him and teleported them both to the prison level.

He grinned to himself. It felt so good to choke something else, something other than the Creeper. Something to kill if he felt like it.

Pulling her in front of him, he was able to look her over.

Tears were flowing freely from Avalina's eyes, which he noticed now were wide in terror and a bright green, with a rim of bright gold around the iris that fanned out into the green like fresh sunbeams.

It reminded him of forests and sunlight.

As she fought harder, he felt his eyes burn red, remembering his vow he had made last night. The Fates would not win this one!

Looking into her eyes from this incredibly short distance, he realized he could see his own reflection in their bright depths, which were growing rapidly dimmer.

He saw Death reflected back at him.

He visibly flinched at his horrific appearance, right as her eyes fluttered shut.

"Sire!"

A voice snapped harshly from the doorway, breaking him from his thoughts.

Whipping his head around, he glared at the entrance and gave it a glare to shut up, before turning back to the girl as he felt her weight sag in his grip.

Instantly letting go of her, he stepped back a couple feet and motioned to the Invisible to close the cell door.

The girl coughed and choked, her ribs heaving as she drew in rasping breaths.

The Horned King stared at her as she reeled back from him in terror, still on the ground, staring back at him with tearful eyes.

The Horned King narrowed his own, which were dimming back to blackness.

This should feel good. It *had* felt good until a couple of moments ago. Now the satisfaction had left him. What was the problem?

He had planned to taunt her and threaten her family, but all he managed out was a warning that she should not run from him again.

He glared at her harder as she pleaded with him to let her go. If she thought he was gullible enough to let her escape and go telling all of Prydain of his return, she was a fool.

Realizing he couldn't look at her any more, he turned and walked out, but even with a closed door between them he still heard her sobs.

Pausing for a moment, he had listened, before heading to his chambers.

* * *

Now, in his privacy, The Horned King paced in a rage, fuming over the events that had taken place.

_'I planned to kill the girl and I did not. Why? Why did I let her live? Instead of watching her life leave her body I let her draw another breath. And another. And another. Breath I swore she would never taste again. Now she is in my dungeon, instead of at the bottom of the lake. I wanted to kill her. I needed to kill her.'_

A snarl of rage escaped him.

_'I *Should* have killed her. There was nothing and no one to stop me. .I could have. It would have been so easy. Just a few moments longer, and it would have been a corpse that hit that dungeon floor. Not something still clinging to life, begging me to release her.'_

The Horned King snarled again.

_'Shedding blood held the utmost appeal to me these many weeks, to break this cursed monotony, and when I am given the opportunity I let it slip through my fingers. Why?'_

For once, an answer presented itself to his silent tirade.

_'Her eyes.'_

He tried to push the thought away, but failed.

_'They were as green as the mountains in springtime,'_ he remembered grudgingly.

_'Bright and deep as an emerald forest pool. The sun shone inside them. They held Life.'_

The remembrance of seeing his own reflection inside their frightened depths made him shudder slightly.

_'Until Death was mirrored inside them.'_

There was a reason why there were no reflective surfaces in the castle.

The sobs he had heard through the dungeon door echoed in his mind.

_'She brought it completely on herself. If she had agreed she would not be there. Does she realize how much it took for me to utter that one little word? Does she not realize the honor she was given?'_

He grimaced at the memory of actually speaking that detestable syllable.

_'No, she does not. But here I am, begging a mortal for something, the very thing I swore I would not let the Fates do to me.'_

Another snarl, louder than the others, escaped him as he paced the floor with a vengeance.

_'And they have done it. I cannot believe myself for being so weak. I ask her, not order, command, or demand. . .I *ask* her to stay and she refuses. The only time I've ever asked a mortal for anything.'_

A soft sigh escaped him.

_'Not that I truly blame her.'_

Going to the window, he stared out over Prydain, past his dead realm and on into the miles of green and sunshine that stretched as far as the eye could see, where his influence over the land ended.

_'Keeping her here will profit nothing. She will never be of any use to me, nor will she be able to look past. . .this.'_

He narrowed his eyes at the thought of his face.

_'My appearance is a testimony to all the people I have murdered and destroyed. Their deaths are etched irrevocably into my being, and I can never escape it. I will wear them until my dying day. And although Ava_'_

The Horned King cut it off quickly before it could finish.

He had not been able to get her name out of his head since it had been uttered. He had even begun to think of her by name. It took a conscious effort not to think about it, which only urged his mind to repeat it more inside his head.

_'And although the girl is useless to me, I cannot let her go. Killing her would save me the trouble of keeping a prisoner, and I have yet to do even that.'_

The Horned King tightly gripped the sill.

_'And so a prisoner she stays.'_


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26

"How could he? How could HE?!"

Sobs and raging filled the room the Invisibles had gone to after what had happened.

The two pranksters had been so furious beyond reason they would have no doubt revealed themselves and done something truly horrible to the Horned King. (Not that he didn't deserve it, but it was strictly forbidden for them to interfere unless ordered)

The others had had to drag them from the room by force and hold them down until all they could do was cry. For two fun-loving, light-hearted creatures such as themselves, seeing them in a raging hatred that burned this hot was something the others had only seen on a couple other occasions in the millennium they had known each other.

The first now stood by the window, staring into the courtyard, taking slow, deep breaths, attempting to control its fury.

The second and third were pacing the room, ranting at the top of their voices about all the horrible things they would do to the Horned King. Their wrath lent voice to every single thing the first was silently fuming at.

And the fourth was sitting in a chair by a table. Its sobs had not stopped since the incident, and they lent quiet background noise to the fury of the other two.

"How dare he hurt her! How DARE he?"

"I'll make him wish he was never born!"

"I'm ripping his heart right out! I don't care what the Fates do to me! Nobody like that deserves to live! No ONE!"

"That monster! He should be killed a thousand times over for what he's done!"

"I'll KILL him for that! He can't just hurt someone and throw them in a cage like that! Especially not Avalina!"

"She's too sweet for that kind of treatment! That good, sweet girl!"

"I hate him and I hope he goes straight back to the Cauldron where he belongs!"

"I'll break every bone in his undead body!"

"I'll rip his horns out!"

"Throw him in the lake!"

"And shoot a nail through his foot!"

"And smash him over the head with a trolley!"

This had been going on for nearly four hours, and they showed no sign of stopping any time soon.

The first had no doubt that in the peak of their fury right now, they would carry out all those things without a single drop of remorse. In fact, they would enjoy every second of it.

Nobody but the other two knew just how completely vindictive, vengeful and malicious the two pranksters could really be. No one else ever saw that side of them. And it was exceedingly rare that they even got angry at all. There was no happy medium for them.

Nearly all the time, they were fun-loving sidekicks just dancing along and squeezing enjoyment out of nearly any situation, no matter how bad it might be. Content to let things take its course with a laugh and the positive reassurance that everything would be ok in the end.

But touch something they cared about and they would instantly turn into something Mother Nature herself, with all her elements, could never hope to rival.

Their wrath was utterly terrifying.

The first slowly made its way over to the one sobbing by the table.

"Why?"

The fourth sobbed.

"Why? Why her? She's too sweet of a girl for this! She doesn't deserve any of this! She should be home, with her family, in the sunshine and the wild country! Not locked in this wretched dark castle with a cold-hearted murderer! How could he do this to her? She's so young. . ."

The first sat there with the other, doing their best to comfort.

The fourth had always been the most sensitive of the team. When faced with a situation the first would bark at, and the other two would laugh at and come off with a few sarcastic remarks, the fourth would inevitably break down.

The prankster duo channeled their agony into fiery rage, rather than grief. The first channeled theirs into a wall of ice, and the fourth would become raw cake batter.

After another hour, the first noticed that the ranting from the other two had quietened, and now, exhausted, they were holding each other, crying their hearts out.

The fourth was doing more sniffling now than sobbing, and the first felt in control of themselves enough now to actually risk saying something.

It wouldn't even take a spark to set them all off again, so the first chose its words carefully, trying to keep themselves calm, despite the fury still bubbling inside them.

"Now that we've gotten most of that out of our system, I want everyone to listen to me."

The others all turned reluctantly towards the speaker.

"I know everyone is beyond hurt and furious right now. I am too. But talking about it won't make things better for anyone besides us. What we need to do now is do everything the master asks of us, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else, and try to make sure Avalina gets the best care possible. She's going to really need it while she's down there. We need to try and keep her spirits up, alright? We're not going to have time to do anything nasty to the master."

"Oh, I don't know," the second said dryly, "I've always got time for something sweet. Namely revenge."

"But Avalina needs us more. So, we're going to carry on as normal, but try and give her the best we can, and make sure her horse stays well taken care of, understood?"

The third was leaping about in a flash.

"Oh, gracious, the horse! Quick, come with me!"

The others followed as it tore out of the room, headed for the stable.

* * *

The sight that met them when they entered the stable made them all gasp.

The animal stood in the center of the hall, its head down.

Sensing their presence, the horse lifted its head and whinnied softly in questioning, before lacing its ears back flat and glaring in their general direction upon realizing it was not the one he wanted.

Blood was clotted all down the horse's knees and around its mouth, no doubt where it had bit and pawed the doors, attempting to get to its master.

Impact marks covered the walls all around the stable for a good eight feet up. . .nearly nine in a few places. . .bite marks, hoof marks, and the like.

The hitching rail the animal had been tied to lay in five different pieces. The remains of the reins that they knew Avalina prized so highly lay scattered over the floor.

The horse had broken the rail clean out of the ground, dragged it for a while before stomping it to pieces, and bit the reins in half like paper.

The bridle and saddle seemed unharmed, but the horse's mouth wasn't. Blood seeped out from around the bits and dripped onto the stone floor as the animal weakly glared at them.

"He's been at it ever since she was. . .you know. . ."

"Yeah. . .He wore himself out trying to get to her."

"That poor creature. We need to get his equipment off and fix him up."

"Can you imagine what Avalina might do if she found him like this?"

"It would kill her."

"Well then, come on and help me."

Being minors to the Fates themselves, the horse couldn't actually harm the Invisibles, but even exhausted, the animal put up a terrific fight at the hands that held him. Nobody touched him except his rider!

Nearly five insane, exhausting hours later of fighting a raging animal over every square inch of the stable, (Who had apparently gotten a second wind) the equipment had been removed and cleaned, and the front legs disinfected and bandaged tightly up. Pepper rubbed over the top of the bandages would keep the horse from ripping them back off.

Nothing much could be done for his mouth, except to watch his feed while he healed, making sure he ate nothing rough.

Hay was a necessity, but perhaps something not as rough as the wild hay he clearly favored. Leaf hay would do better for now. Instead of oats, bran would do nicely until his mouth healed.

The reins had been fixed to look like new (The Invisibles' special abilities really helped here) and nobody could ever tell they had ever been broken at one point.

Hanging the saddlebags on a rail inside the tackroom, something fell out of one.

Picking it up, the third Invisible puzzled for a moment, before bursting into laughter.

The others came in, sounding exhausted after their workout, and all the third was able to do was wave the blue cloth helplessly in the air.

"So THAT's why Creeper's cape looks so weird now!" It cackled.

"He's got a new fashion designer!"

The fourth laughed, a grin evident in its voice.

"I was in here last night when it happened."

Instantly all the attention was on them.

"Tell us!"

"Tell us!"

The fourth laughed.

"Well, Creeper decided to come in and see the horse, and he thought he just was so bad. . ."


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27

Creeper hadn't been able to see much of the incident. All he had been able to see was his master teleport himself to the balcony to ambush the human, and he had gotten a very nice view of his master choking her, right before they teleported out of sight again.

But it had been enough to make the goblin's day.

Creeper had wandered around the castle with his head in the clouds for the rest of the day, overjoyed that his master had found something new to abuse. For a little while, at least.

The Invisibles had disappeared for a long, long time afterward, and he could not find them anywhere in the castle.

It was nearly nine at night when the large doors blew open and they came inside, sounding exhausted but triumphant, and of course, laughing over something.

As usual.

They burst into fits of giggles as he hopped down the stairs, loudly announcing that he was hungry. He didn't know what their deal was, but it was irritating.

A quick, short silence suddenly dropped, before one of them spoke to him.

"Your master wants you, goblin. You better hurry. I'll fix you something while you're in there."

As they all dispersed to do their chores and so on, Creeper slowly headed to his master's chambers, dread filling him.

An Invisible came with him, lighting the torches in front of him to see by.

Tapping nervously at his master's door, he wondered what he could possibly want him for.

As he came inside the Invisible came in right behind him, shutting the door.

"S-S-Sire?"

The Horned King sat in the smaller throne inside his chambers, thinking.

After a moment, he spoke.

"The Invisibles are to work around the castle. And you. . ."

He glared at Creeper, "Can take care of the horse."

Creeper blanched.

"B-But Sire!"

The Horned King snapped him a look that said, "Say one more word and you're regretting it."

Creeper shrank.

"Y-y-yes, Sire. As you w-wish."

"You," The Horned King spoke in the direction above Creeper's head.

"Yes, Sire?"

"Make sure the girl is given enough to stay alive, but no more. That is all."

"Begging your Majesty's pardon, but I doubt starving her will endear you to her any more."

"Silence!" The Horned King hissed.

"You will do as I command. Are we. . .quite clear?"

". . .Perfectly."

There was enough ice in that word to freeze a lake on a warm day.

The Horned King nodded his head in dismissal, frowning suddenly as the goblin exited.

Staring hard at the goblin's back, he realized half his cloak was missing.

Brows raised, the Horned King watched him until the door was shut.

_'What in the name of. . .'_

* * *

As the Invisible and the goblin walked down the hall together, the Invisible snuffing the torches out behind them, the goblin began to mutter to himself, forgetting the other was even there.

"Oh, how am I going to do this? He'll kill me."

Whether he was referring to the master or the horse was debatable.

"I can't go back in there!"

His musings were broken by the Invisible speaking.

"Why not?"

"Because it nearly killed me last time!"

The goblin snapped.

Yep, definitely the horse he was talking about.

"Well, then you shouldn't have tried to push something around that's bigger than you. And no, before you ask, we can't help you. You heard the master's orders."

Creeper groaned and covered his face in his hands.

"I'm doomed."

No doubt if the Invisible had actually been visible, they could have been seen grinning like mad.

* * *

In the depths of the castle, Avalina had cried until she had no more tears to shed. She wept for her family and her friends, who she would never see again, and who would no doubt think she was dead. . .for her horse, who waited for her in the stable, perhaps knowing by now that she wouldn't be coming. . .her country, that she would never be able to warn now. . .and for herself, who's fate also hung in the balance.

Considering she was in the dungeon of the Horned King himself, her prospects of life were not favorable.

Huddled in a corner, her knees pulled to her chest, she stared blankly at the floor in front of her, a stray tear working over her face.

After her lengthy cry, she was left shuddering violently as chills racked her body. The stone floor did not help, but she was too emotionally crushed to move.

She ached all over. . .whether it was from the crying, the aftereffects of when she had fallen earlier, or a combination of both. . .and her head throbbed, but her throat was the worst.

It itched and scratched on the inside, hurt to breathe, hurt to move, and she hadn't tried to use her voice again after her pleading earlier but it would probably hurt as well.

She couldn't see herself, but she knew the place where the Horned King had held her by the throat was probably bruising and turning blue or purple. Possibly even black.

Her left wrist where he had grabbed her was also turning blue, although it didn't look as bad as her throat felt.

Her palms still burned from where she had fallen earlier, enough of the skin having been removed to be painful, but not quite enough to actually bleed.

The black despair in her heart, however, clouded over everything else to where it looked insignificant in comparison.

_'I knew I never should have __stopped here,'_ she thought bleakly.

_'I should have listened to my gut more and just kept going, but my head panicked and insisted on shelter. Mitternacht did need it though, he couldn't have taken another step in his state.'_

She gave the faintest of smiles at the thought of her friend.

_'I should have left after the first night. Mitternacht and I both were rested up enough to go home. I'm sure he knew the way. But I didn't leave. Why didn't I leave? How *could* I have been so stupid?'_

Avalina fought down a sob.

_'Of course, this whole thing would have never happened if I had just headed back to Dalben's in the first place instead of trying to make it home. I should have used my common sense and just went back to his cottage to wait out the storm, and heading home today when it cleared. Why didn't I? Why? Why, why, why?'_

Avalina blinked, her eyes burning. No matter how many times she wished she could go back and change her decision, it was impossible. Completely, utterly hopeless. It couldn't get more hopeless than this.

_'No one knows he's returned but me, and I can't do a single thing about it. No one would even think of looking for me here, not that anyone actually would. This isn't one of those beautiful stories I read so often, where the heroine or the princess has a knight in shining armor to save her when things can't get any worse. To pull her from the ogre's lair and fight the monster to save her life. To be her hero, her guardian, and her dearest friend._

_I am not a heroine or a princess. I'm not even close to either of those things. I am just a simple peasant, with no distinguishing qualities, no riches, no courage, no talents, no anything. I possess nothing even worth trying to save. And even if I did, it wouldn't change anything. I don't have someone to come to my rescue like those characters in my books do. I don't even have someone that would try.'_

Avalina closed her eyes, as if it would help shield her from the hideous truth.

_'I have no hero to come for me. I have absolutely no one._

_And now, because of my rashness and poor thinking, I have doomed all of Prydain to the Horned King. I practically handed it to him on a silver platter. No doubt he tortures his prisoners until he gets what he wants. I will be no different. I'll never see my loved ones again, and it is all my own wretched fault.'_

A stray tear slipped itself out of her eye.

_'I failed.'_

Another sob choked its way out of her.

_'Mother, I'm so sorry.'_

* * *

**Haven't done one of these in a while. Disclaimers! Everything belongs to Disney and Lloyd Alexander, except this story and my OC's.**

**Reviews are valued as the equivalent to diamonds around here, ya'll, so leave a comment of some sort XD. Please? (Crosses fingers)**


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28

Creeper stood, shaking horribly, by the stable doors, listening for the slightest sound on the other side.

He didn't hear anything, but it did not help his state of mind.

Ever since he had been dealt the bloodcurdling task of caring for the horse, his life had changed from a living prison to a downright waking nightmare.

Literally.

His every thought in his every every waking moment. . .the ones that didn't stem from his master, that is. . .were constantly on the big black beast waiting for him at the stable, without fail, every morning, every night. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep. . .

He had even started having nightmares about the thing, dreaming of it galloping through the castle with red eyes and fiery hooves, smoke pouring from its nose, seeking to destroy him.

The goblin had more than enough nightmares that stemmed from other things. He didn't need any more!

It had gotten to the point that Creeper didn't just think it anymore. He was thoroughly convinced the. . .horse. . .for lack of a better term. . .was the illegitimate result of what happened when one of Loki's pets and one of Hades' got together.

And now neither of the gods would claim it, so they had turned it loose on earth to terrorize some poor, unsuspecting mortal. He could see them now, laughing their heads off at his misfortune.

Every single day it got harder and harder for Creeper to feed and water the animal while simultaneously saving all his limbs.

Grooming and mucking out the stall were completely out of the question before they could even be tallied in. It simply couldn't be done.

Creeper had tried every idea he could possibly think of, from racing madly in the door and running about like a heint as he threw his chores about, dodging hooves and teeth, to lowering himself to the trough to dump the food in from a rope and bucket system he had attached to the rafters.

And the sad thing was that the horse never fell for the same trick twice.

Ever.

Half the time the animal was a step ahead of the goblin. For every clever trick the goblin could whip up, the horse would respond with an equally cunning comeback. The animal was smart enough to be a war general.

Or a strategist.

One time, when Creeper had gotten the brilliant idea to draw the horse's attention to the front door by making his presence loudly known, then going in through the tiny back door at the other end of the stable to sneak into the feedroom, race out, throw the feed in the trough and get out of the building as fast as possible, he thought it had worked for the first few minutes.

The horse had continued to watch the front door as Creeper, with bated breath, carefully handfulled the grain into the pan so it couldn't be heard. Feeling like he was walking on pins, he had toptoed to the horse's trough and slowly handfulled it into there as well, before carefully grabbing the water bucket and tiptoeing out the back to fill it at the pump in the courtyard.

When he had came back the horse was still at the door, its ears laid back. Creeper had stealthily moved the heavy bucket back to the stall and left it, only to turn around and see the horse in the stall door, effectively blocking the way, it ears pinned at him and its eyes glinting murder underneath that hedge of a mane. It had been listening to him all this time, waiting for the right moment to pounce.

Creeper didn't even have time to curse the creature as it charged at him, striking like mad. Sparks flew off the animal's shoes as they struck the stone floor where the goblin had been a mere breath earlier.

In the end, the horse had cornered Creeper in the feedroom and hadn't moved from the door, striking whenever the goblin so much as peeked through the wood.

After being trapped for nearly twelve grinding hours, he had managed to scratch a tiny, tiny hole in the roof of the feedroom (Using only his little claws and teeth) leading to the loft, and from there go out the tiny window several dozen feet above the ground, hanging onto the barn wall for all he was worth.

He had kept spitting wood for days.

How he made it out alive out of the ordeal at all was a miracle in itself.

He was thoroughly convinced the horse enjoyed every second of his misery. It made sounds unlike anything the goblin had ever heard before in his life, as it chased him around the stable every day. Since its rider was nowhere to be found, its sole joy in life seemed to be attempting to beat the living daylights out of him.

Creeper never knew if he would live or not after each encounter.

Bruises and scrapes covered his little body where the horse had nicked him here and there when he was too slow in getting out of the way. Only by the Fates' grace was he still alive and in possession of all his parts.

The Invisibles had taken pity on him at some point and transferred the feedbin outside, so he could simply pour the grain into a pan and push it under the door, but after the first day the horse had caught on, and after eating would proceed to kick and toss the pan all over the stable, no doubt delighting in the metallic noise it made when it hit things.

Creeper had used another pan the next day, and another the next, until the stack by the feedbin was completely gone. The Invisibles either couldn't or wouldn't supply him with any more, and he realized that he was going to have go inside and collect some.

One, at least.

Shivering, Creeper put his ear to the door again to listen, but the stable was as quiet as a tomb.

If he had to do this very much longer, he had no doubt that it would eventually be the death of him.

The idea of this wretched stable being his final resting place was far from a pleasant feeling.

Swallowing hard, the goblin slowly slid the latch back on the door, cringing as the metal scraped against the wood.

When no explosion of noise came from inside, he risked poking his head around the side of the door.

Nothing but a long, empty expanse of hall greeted him, to his shock.

Looking carefully around, he tiptoed inside, trying to look everywhere at once, trying to be as quiet as a mouse walking on feathers.

Inching his way across the floor, he slowly, slowly, came further in, glancing around furtively for at least one of the pans he had fed the animal with, but there was nothing.

The grey light from outside didn't help the gloom much, but it was enough to see by and dimly make out all the cracks where the cobblestones fitted together.

Peeking in all the stalls as he slowly made his way down, (which were all still open) he constantly kept his ears and eyes strained for anything that moved. Just one little noise and he was out of here. . .

As he reached the end of the hall, he could make out three of the pans lying on the floor in random areas. Ever so carefully, he picked them up, making absolutely sure they didn't clink together.

Holding them tightly to his chest, he turned around to tiptoe back, when something above him caught his eye.

Craning his head back, he saw the outline of pan number four, lodged in between the crossbeams that held up the ceiling, several feet above his head.

His mouth dropped open in shock.

_'How in the devil did it get up there?'_

The ceiling was a good twelve feet high, something the horse couldn't reach with his hooves or his head. And yet, the pan was there.

Creeper, after staring another moment, shook himself and began to tiptoe slowly out. He didn't need that pan, he had three now.

Or did he?

If he got the other pan too, he wouldn't have to go back inside again for one more feeding. For four whole days, he wouldn't even have to set a toe inside this stable, all he needed to do was get the other pan.

Torn, Creeper glanced first at the door at the end of the hall, waiting for him with open arms, then back at the pan, who promised another taste of paradise in the long run. As in, not having to fight with the horse for one more blessed day.

Mentally slapping himself, Creeper carefully set down the other pans and, hopping up on top of the wall of the stall nearest him, slowly began to climb his way up the post toward the crossbeams.

Crawling on his stomach across the wood, he drew nearer and nearer to the pan, all his concentration on gripping the plank below him so he wouldn't fall off. He shuddered at the thought and willed himself not to look down.

The twelve feet to the floor would surely result in broken bones of some type if he slipped.

Reaching for it, his fingers brushed the edge of the pan, causing it to wobble slightly.

Saying a tiny prayer to whoever might be listening, Creeper crawled forward another few inches and tried again. His fingers closed around the edge of the pan and he pulled it to him in relief.

So concerned about getting the pan, he was now faced with another problem.

Now he had to get down.

Realizing he couldn't possibly climb down with only one hand without killing himself, he clamped the edge of the pan firmly in his teeth as he descended.

After several jaw-breaking minutes, his feet touched the floor again.

Nearly sighing in relief, he quietly picked up all the pans and started tiptoeing to the door, nearly dancing in excitement.

_'By Orion I'm good, that horse didn't hear a thing,'_ he thought proudly.

_'Guess he's not as smart as he thinks he is.'_

Now that he thought about it, he hadn't seen or heard the animal during the entire time he was in the stable. The place might as well have been empty.

It may as well have been a graveyard.

A lightning fast streak scurried across the floor in front of him from the shadowy stall to his left, kicking up straw.

The already nervous goblin screamed and dropped the pans, clanging them all loudly to the floor and sending them rolling.

In the silence, the crashing was deafening.

Creeper balled himself up on the floor, covering his head with his arms.

_'Its over, its over!'_ He thought desperately.

_'I'm gonna die!'_

The pans slowly clanged into silence before Creeper dared to open his eyes a tiny crack.

Across from him to his left, he saw a tiny mouse run up the wall and disappear into the shadows, heading for the loft.

Realizing that that had been the object of his terror, he got unsteadily to his feet, cursing that mouse a hundred times over.

Collecting all the pans again, he headed to the door, still attempting to be quiet, despite the fact that everything within a dozen miles of the castle had probably heard him.

As he tiptoed past the stable from where the mouse had fled, a massive black hoof crashed down in front of him, shaking the very building.

Creeper, peeking over the top of the pans he carried, looked into the blazing eyes above him for one fraction of a second before screaming at the top of his lungs and leaping high in the air in terror.

Dropping all the pans again he ran for the door, the horse screaming at him from behind and doing his level best to run him into the ground.

Creeper barely bailed out the door in time before an Invisible slammed it shut.

The crash of the horse kicking the door sounded like the end of the world from inside the courtyard.

Shivering violently, the goblin wobbled to his feet to stare at the closed door, hearing the screaming animal crash through the pans and start the ritual of kicking them all over the stable.

Again.

Creeper balled his hands into fists.

All that work, wasted.

"You stupid animal!"

He screamed at the door, determined to have the last word.

"If I didn't feed you you'd DIE!"

The roaring noise from the animal answered him, right as a thunderous blow was dealt to the door again. It was laughing at him!

Nearly crying in rage, the goblin looked around wildly for something to throw as hard as absolutely possible, and nearly jumped out of his skin when a rock the size of his fist appeared out of thin air.

"Have at thee, mister Three-Pans-Weren't-Enough!" The disembodied voice of the Invisible choked out, barely holding in a laugh.

Rage filled the little goblin as the servant dared to torment him after what had just happened.

"SHUT!"

Creeper shouted at the Invisible as he grabbed the rock and pulled his arm back. . .

"UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUP!"

Loosing the rock from his hand, he watched in a wicked satisfaction as it sailed high into the air and right across the courtyard, nearly blending into the grey sky.

Already he felt so much *better*! It was amazing what releasing a little steam could do!

Feeling renewed, he watched as it shot back toward ground level.

That horse wouldn't get the better of him, noooo sir! He could handle it! He was going to prove that horse wrong, even if it took him the rest of his life!

The shattering of glass brought Creeper back to earth with a punch.

Both he and the Invisible stared, open-mouthed in horror, as a rock-sized hole suddenly appeared in the only glass window the entire castle had ever possessed.

With huge eyes, they both watched as the rest of the glass suddenly crumpled to pieces, spilling over the roof to drop some of the larger bits into the courtyard below, leaving a massive, gaping black hole in the castle wall.

The silence that followed seemed to last for at least a few centuries, as the goblin and the Invisible stared, frozen, in the courtyard, with open mouths. Even the horse inside the stable was quiet.

Neither said a single word during that time.

Until the Invisible said under its breath to Creeper, who was starting to realize just what he had done,

"My friend, you make the *Worst* decisions of any mortal I've ever. . .Did you really aim for that?"

A long silence.

". . . . . . . . . .No."

More silence.

". . . . . . . .Pity."

Another bout of silence followed as the Invisible tried to think of some way to make the goblin feel better.

"On the other hand, though. . .hehe . . .I suppose its a good day to die."

The goblin glared daggers at the empty air beside him.

"Shut up."


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29

What is needed and what is wanted in life are generally two different things.

Something needed is a necessity for survival, something wanted is merely something that helps make surviving more comfortable.

When stripped down to the core, things needed for survival are surprisingly slim. The requirements are shockingly small.

In turn, it wouldn't be much of a life, if all we had were the absolute bare essentials, with absolutely nothing and no one else that is considered unnecessary added to the mix.

But the two opposites must meet in the middle somewhere, and its the finest of lines that separate them. More often than not the line is so blurred its impossible to find, as needs and wants overlap and run through each other endlessly.

Humans can remain in the dark and live relatively healthy for a long time. Years, even. True, you may eventually go blind, but when you are in pitch darkness, your eyes are not counted as a need, therefore your body eliminates them to focus on more important areas.

Thus was Avalina attempting to convince herself that sunlight was a want and not necessarily a need at the moment.

_'I don't actually *need* the sun,'_ she had told herself weakly.

_'I just really, really want it. I'll survive.'_

She hadn't realized just how much her life revolved around the sun until it had been taken from her.

Being a brush farmer at home, she would rise with the sun to work endlessly on her family's land, helping keep them all afloat, rejoicing in its light and warmth.

The sun was her friend and her ally in the daytime, the moon was its watchful eye at night.

Down here, in the depths of the castle, neither could be seen at all, raising her despair tenfold.

In fact, she could see hardly anything.

Her cell walls, and the stone walls, floor and ceiling stretching beyond that were the only things she had seen for a long time, save for the torch that was left constantly burning by the door, providing her with barely enough light to see by.

The servants brought her a little food and water everyday, barely any at all, but it was something.

The first several days. . .at least, she assumed it had been that long, but time had about as much meaning here as an upside down letter, so there was no real way of knowing. . .had been horrible because her stomach had cramped constantly, wanting more food than it was being given, and she had been in constant pain.

Now all it had was a dull, constant ache at her core, pulsing through her body with every beat of her heart.

The scratchy texture of her throat and the dry feeling in her mouth had not left in some time.

It was rather damp and cool down here, being so far underground, and Avalina was constantly cold. There was no warmth to be found.

The servants had brought her some straw to lay on at one point, but it had collected more moisture than any other area in her cell after the first night, rendering it useless.

She shook constantly as the lack of food and water took its toll, weakening her severely, coupled with the chill down here.

A little while back Avalina had pressed her ear to the wall and had been nearly certain she could hear the water of the moat lapping at the walls outside.

And it had terrified her.

If something was to ever give down here, she would drown before anyone could come to her rescue.

Not that anyone would.

She had seen no one. Her captor seemed to have lost interest in her, and for the first few days she had been relieved when he did not come for her, and the servants, although she knew they came and went, could never be seen no matter how hard she strained her eyes.

But now she was almost. . .almost. . .wishing he would come and simply finish it.

Compared to this type of pitiful existence, she had asked herself innumerable times, could death really be that terrible?

Things she would never have even dreamed of thinking about previous to this now crossed her mind nearly constantly, nearly always relating to death or dying in some way.

Would it hurt? Was there really such a thing as the afterlife? Did souls go to different places? Did the Fates decide where, or did it depend on how mortals lived their lives previously?

She had no answers to any of that, but the thought of death didn't scare her. Not really. She knew she had family and friends waiting for her on the other side (If there was one), but it was the act of dying itself that frightened her.

She had pondered a great deal on what it might be like to simply slip into a deep, deep sleep and never wake up again.

Avalina had never been a pessimist or one prone to excessive negative thinking, but as the time dragged on, she slowly began to give up that she would ever get out of the place alive.

As the lack of nutrition took its toll she began seeing things that weren't really there, which, at first, had scared her almost as badly as the thought of the Horned King.

She had trouble telling what was real and what wasn't, and to her surprise after a while, she found she didn't really care anymore.

She wondered if she might be slowly going mad down here in the dark, as each breath became a battle her lungs were growing increasingly more reluctant to wage.

She thought of her family a lot.

No doubt they thought she had died in the storm, as the rain had washed away any tracks Mitternacht might have made, and it had been a long time.

It felt like an eternity. And then another. Infinity at its finest. It had no end at all.

But it would have to end sometime.

For her, at least.

She hoped her family would be alright. Maybe Mitternacht had managed to break out of the stable somehow and go home.

But he would never leave her, she knew.

Not unless he had no choice.

The last time the servants had brought her something to eat, the smell of it and the mere idea of eating no longer appealed to her.

Water did for a little longer, but even that was starting to taste flat and bland in her mouth, and there eventually came a time when, exhausted, she had nudged it away from her as well when the servant had pushed it through the bars.

She had never felt this exhausted in her whole life.

Which was saying something, considering she normally worked all day long, either in the fields or in the house, well into the night, wherever she was needed most.

Thinking she might try to sleep, she closed her eyes (Which she realized felt like lead weights) and felt another wave of exhaustion sweep over her.

Her last thought before she lost consciousness was a mingled jumble of her friends' and family's faces, both living and dead, Mitternacht, and right at the very edge of it all, at the very corner of her mind. . .

Was the red-eyed silhouette of the Horned King.

* * *

The news of the broken window had been handled rather well, considering all the bad circumstances, the Invisible thought privately as it headed down the stairs to the dungeon.

The Horned King had choked Creeper for longer than usual, actually nearly causing the goblin to pass out before he dropped him.

Creeper had called the Invisible everything under the sun because of it, to the point where it had gotten tired of it and slammed a teapot over his head.

It had forgotten the thing had tea in it.

It had also forgotten it was the last one they had, after Creeper had disposed of the other one in the trolley fiasco, without them having to conjure up another, which simply didn't happen overnight.

All the other Invisibles had berated the other harshly for its actions, while its partner in crime had rubbed its little hands together and asked what they were going to smash next, and that it was a crying shame they hadn't seen the goblin-and-pony show with the smashing finale.

_'I have a future as a therapist yet,'_ the Invisible thought somewhat cheerfully, the first halfway cheerful thought it could remember having for a while.

The Invisibles dreaded their daily trips to the dungeon. They never knew what they would find, and it had gotten to the point they were drawing straws now to see which one got it for the day.

Then they would feel ashamed of themselves for being cowards when Avalina needed them, and one of them would go.

It was the same with who was assigned for the day to follow the Horned King around to be at his beck and call.

Normally the two prankster Invisibles would have leapt at the job, all too eager for some fun, but the other two had banned them from it for now, since they still didn't trust them not to throw the Horned King out the window and into the moat when nobody was around.

_'I still don't care if its not allowed,'_ the Invisible thought grimly.

_'He deserves to be punished for every evil thing he's ever done. We don't really know Avalina that well, but she's far too young and kindhearted to be subjected to this kind of treatment.'_

Granted, the Horned King had not done anything else to her since throwing her in the dungeon, but his orders made no sense.

What he was doing was the last thing outside of interrogating he should have done. He didn't have that much time left, and it was imperative he took advantage of every single moment.

Personally, all the Invisibles had known he was fighting with himself, with his pride or his soul as the prize. Whichever he favored more.

And currently he was losing at both.

The Invisible might actually have felt sorry for him if he wasn't such a heartless being.

The Invisible opened the door to the dungeon level, balancing its load carefully.

The girl had refused food yesterday, something that had them all extremely worried, and then this morning she had refused both food and water.

If it possible for the two mischievous Invisibles to feel fear, they had definitely felt it then.

Stifling a sigh, the Invisible approached Avalina's cell.

A sharp gasp, the shattering of china as the Invisible dropped the tray and the rush of wind as it raced back up the stairs as fast as it could go were the only noises in the silence.


	30. Chapter 30

**I don't own anything except the story and my OC's.**

* * *

Chapter 30

The Horned King brooded darkly in his chambers, his expression as cruel as his thoughts.

He had just finished going through every piece of reading material available even remotely related to the Black Cauldron, and still had not found the tiniest speck of evidence that explained how or why he had been brought back.

He couldn't help but think that if he could find out what had forced the Fates to release him from the Cauldron, rebuild his body and bring him back to life, he could use that information to somehow keep himself here permanently. To keep himself from the eternal Hell that awaited him.

A whisper from the Cauldron tugged at him, but he harshly shoved it away.

Not one word had been overlooked, he had gone over every single thing with a fine-toothed comb looking for answers, for something, anything that could give him even a hint. A clue of some type.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

And it was not helping his temper in the slightest.

It didn't help that the task the Fates had assigned him kept repeating itself inside his head and angering him even more.

That pathetic goblin was lucky he got off as easily as he did with the window. If the Horned King didn't enjoy hurting him so much he would have been dead a long time ago.

His eyes narrowed slightly as he remembered the staircase full of broken china. That goblin was beginning to be more trouble than he was worth, and the Horned King couldn't help but think that the Invisibles had had an indirect (Or direct) effect on him to make him act like this.

The Creeper had never been a troublemaking problem in the past, but then when the imbeciles had came to town they had taken him along for the ride like an escape trip from a mental hospital.

The Horned King had no idea how many Invisible servants there were, only that they were always around, doing absolutely everything possible to annoy him out of his mind.

Come to think of it, they had been rather quiet lately.

Not a single insult had been thrown his way, or random items flying around the room for quite some time now.

It wasn't like the Invisibles to be quiet.

Right on cue, the door to his chambers was kicked open violently, sending it smashing into the wall behind.

The Horned King jumped in surprise at the sudden entrance, for the first time in several centuries, as a wind flooded his chambers, causing anything made of fabric to flap for a moment before it died down.

Coolly composing himself, the Horned King glared murder at the empty doorframe and opened his mouth to snarl something, but the Invisible got there first.

"You Idiotic, Tyrannical, Dysfunctional, Narrow-Minded MORON! Do You Care About Your Soul At ALL?!"

The Invisible screeched in rage.

The Horned King stared in complete shock. Nobody had ever dared to speak to him like that before.

"Do You Even KNOW The Chance You Were Given When The Fates Released You From The Cauldron?!"

The Invisible screamed at him.

The Horned King's eyes shimmered, and he opened his mouth to snarl something, but the Invisible was still going.

"You Don't Deserve To Live! If You Want To Go Back To The Cauldron And Spend The Rest Of Eternity, Then Fine, But Don't You Dare Make Avalina Pay For YOUR Stupidity!"

"Silence!"

The Horned King snarled, but the Invisible, for the very first time, disregarded orders.

"You Go Down In That Dungeon And Look At What You've Done! That Girl Was Your Only Hope Of Saving Yourself And You Lost Your Chance! Go Down There, NOW!"

The pure, undiluted rage surpassed anything the Horned King had ever seen. No one dared to act anything less than a shivering coward in his presence, and the Horned King was reminded here rather sharply that the Invisibles were not just any servants.

They were minors to the Fates themselves, and therefore extremely powerful beings all on their own, more than capable of killing someone in an infinite number of ways simply by snapping their fingers.

At least, he assumed they had fingers.

Thus was his hunch correct that they only obeyed orders when they felt like it.

Glaring daggers at the Invisible, he hissed furiously, his voice scarcely above a whisper, "*I* give the orders around here, _Slave. _Not you, not the Fates. . .Me. And you will *Not* attempt to order me around again. Are we clear?"

A scream of fury rose from the Invisible, right as a rush of wind flooded out of the room, slamming the door shut behind them.

The silence in the room seemed very loud, compared to the chaos that had just transpired.

After several, long minutes, the Horned King slowly got up from his throne and headed deliberately to the door.

He hadn't bothered to visit his prisoner since he had locked her up, he might as well do it now. Not because the Invisible said to, but because he had just finished his personal agenda for the day.

He hadn't bothered to give the girl that much thought, having been busy with his research, but he supposed now would be as good a time as any to see if she would willingly stay with him now.

If he had been honest with himself,he would've realized that that wasn't the only reason he had stayed away.

He had handled hundreds of prisoners in his long existence, and they all had their breaking points. This one would be no different.

Judging by the manner of communication the Invisible had used, something was either seriously wrong with her, or, she was dead.

The Horned King felt a very odd little twitch in his chest at the latter thought.

Slowly, he descended the stairs and entered the dungeon, expecting to see the typical, broken, starving prisoner willing to give to his demands, but then again. . .he wasn't quite sure what he expected to find.

He approached her cell and looked down, taking in the scene before him as nonchalantly as someone else might look at food after having just eaten.

The girl lay on her right side, eyes closed, her arms wrapped around her midsection and her legs pulled up as close as possible, no doubt trying to stay warm. Yet, all her muscles were lax and limp, proving she was not conscious.

Even from this distance, it was obvious she hadn't eaten properly in several days.

A large, purple bruise stretched across her left cheekbone, spreading slowly to the others parts of her face. It had obviously been made by a great deal of force, and rather recently too.

And she wasn't moving.

The Horned King stood right beside the bars, staring fiercely at her, trying to decide if she was still alive or not.

He felt the Invisibles enter the room, and he irritably motioned for them to open the cell door, which they complied to.

Crossing the few feet to where she lay, he stared down at her for a few moments, before casually leaning down and placing his thumb and pointer finger lightly on opposite sides of her throat, below her jawbone, realizing how cold she felt.

That wasn't a favorable sign.

The bruises around her neck from where he had grabbed her last time, he noticed, were just now beginning to fade.

Feeling, he found a pulse, but it was so faint. . .hardly there at all. There may as well have not even been one.

Straightening up, he stared down at her, his face an icy mask.

How she had managed to get in such bad shape so quickly was mildly surprising. Most of his prisoners lasted a little longer under the same circumstances. If his memory served him correctly (Which it nearly always did) she had been down here. . .two weeks today.

_'So,'_ he mused, correcting himself, 'S_he lasted a little longer than most, at less than half their age. Impressive.'_

"She stopped eating yesterday, Sire," an Invisible spoke from the entrance.

The Horned King did not acknowledge them, but he heard it plainly.

_'That is. . .strange. Most mortals go mad for food of any kind after being starved like this. This is the first one to refuse it after a period of time. Hm. . .'_

He stared down at her motionless form, thinking.

_'She won't live to dawn tomorrow if she's left here. She probably won't live at all.'_

Reaching down again, he placed his fingers around her neck, feeling for the vertebrae, thinking.

One quick twist, and it would be over for both of them. It would be the most merciful death he had ever dealt to anyone.

She wouldn't feel a thing.

His fingers tightened slightly, causing her faint breathing to become a little more labored. He could barely feel the little draft of it on the edge of his wrist.

Why did he hesitate? He should just do it now. She wasn't worth his time, and in this state she was completely useless.

She had been useless from the start.

The girl's eyes weakly came open just a little, looking right at him.

For a moment, he simply stared.

Even in the gloom, the Horned King could see the brilliant green, with the rays of gold fanning out over it, lending a sunfilled forest sort of look to them. But they looked so dull and faded now. . .

The girl's eyes flickered shut, and he realized she had not been focusing on him. He didn't know if she had even seen anything.

Probably not.

Her faint pulse fluttered lightly against his fingers like a caged butterfly, pushing against the bars that held it, as if crying for life.

After another long moment, the Horned King straightened up, the girl's head moving back slightly to its original position as he released his hold.

After staring for another long moment, he slowly stepped away and ordered the Invisibles.

"Care for the girl."

Not bothering to look back, he ascended the steps as he heard them working down below.

_'Child, you can boast something no one else in the entire world can,' _he thought darkly to himself.

_'The Horned King spared you.'_

He sought for some feeling of disgust toward the pathetic mortal, of scorn, but he felt nothing.

The only one he currently had loathful feelings for was himself. He couldn't believe what he had just done.

_'I tried to kill her and failed. Again. Instead I allow the Invisibles to try and save her life, knowing that she will more than likely be dead before morning. I should have ended it right then. Why do I stoop to such a pathetic level? I am a monster. I am heartless. I kill without mercy. Yet I nearly did, just now. Why? It is not weakness, of that I am sure. I know no such thing.'_

Only one thought answered him.

_'Avalina.'_

Brushing the word away, which proved to be more difficult than he would have liked, he settled on his decision as the Fates' warning rang softly inside his head.

_'She may yet prove useful.'_

* * *

**_Reviews Much Appreciated! :)_**


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter 31

The Invisible tossed yet another blanket over the bed, trying to keep the poor child warm.

They had taken her back to the room she had used for the first couple nights she had spent here, and carefully cleaned her up and tried to get her to come around, with next to no luck.

The chill on her skin scared them even more than her unresponsiveness to treatment, but with nothing to help her besides hot bricks wrapped in quilts, they could do nothing except pile on the covers and try to contain as much heat around her form as she could give off herself.

After a very careful procedure, they had gotten some water and a little broth down her throat, but there had been no response.

They had retrieved her from the dungeon three long days ago, and she had not regained consciousness once.

The Invisibles were beside themselves with worry for her and rage at their master.

At least one of them remained by her side at all times, taking turns every few hours, and currently it was the second and third's shift.

Neither had wanted to be alone, so they had convinced the others to let them tag-team the job and take both shares of their time at once.

Not only was this job nerve-inducing but about as boring as watching grass grow, and it had zapped nearly all the funny out of them.

And that was a serious matter in their opinion.

They had lost interest in the dominoes after a while, and were now staring blankly at Avalina, watching somewhat warily, half afraid that every breath she took would be the girl's last.

Neither of them wanted to speak about her condition, for fear of putting words to the thoughts they did not wish to complete, with of course the worst-case scenario at the very top of their minds.

Avalina could die.

She had been dying when they had finally been allowed to start caring for her, and she had shown no improvement at all.

"Is this cruel?"

One of them suddenly asked, sounding on the verge of tears.

A questioning silence followed, before it continued.

"To keep her like this?"

A sniff came from the other.

"I don't know."

"Do you think she's in pain?"

"I don't know. I hope not."

"Would it have been better for her if we hadn't intervened?"

"Gracious, don't say that! I don't think so."

"Do you think she's gonna. . .you know. . ."

"I don't know!"

It half snapped, too busy wiping tears away to really bark.

"And shut up! You're making me all slushy!"

A soft chuckle came from the other.

"I would punch myself for you but let's face it, you can't when you're invisible."

"Then I'll do it for you and me both!"

A smacking noise resounded.

"Ouch!"

The other cackled as the other replied gingerly,

"I'll make sure I use you as the mop next time we're assigned to clean the floors, then."

"Why?"

"Cause you're just so soppy."

Chuckles ensued, the first real sign of happiness they had shown in many weeks.

Their spirits raised, they were able to feel a bit more hopeful for Avalina's future.

The door came open, causing them to turn towards it, wondering if one of the others needed them.

The last thing they expected to see standing in the doorway was the Horned King.

* * *

It had been three days, and he had not asked about Avalina.

The Invisibles had given no information, and he had not ordered any, deducing that if the girl had died he would have been notified of it.

After arguing/debating with himself, he had decided to see for himself how she fared.

An Invisible had opened her door for him when he approached her room.

He fancied he had heard soft chuckles on the other side of the wood, but as he stepped into the torchlight all that met him was silence.

He could sense Invisibles in the room as he slowly approached the girl's bed.

Reaching the foot, he was about to go further when a soft hiss of fury stopped him by its sheer force.

"Don't. You. Dare. Touch her."

An Invisible snarled at him from somewhere to his right.

"Something like you doesn't even deserve to *look* at something like her."

The Horned King turned his head a fraction of an inch, listening to the Invisible.

Although his face remained impassive, his thoughts were not.

_'Saying something will only encourage them. But, as insufferable as they are. . .they are right.'_

He grudgingly admitted to himself, his head lowering a fraction of an inch.

_'I don't deserve it.'_

The torch cast his terrifying shadow onto the blankets, silhouetting his figure over the girl's lifeless form like Death itself.

Looking down at Avalina's face, he narrowed his eyes slowly, but the action lacked any of his usual malice.

An odd, faint sensation, one he couldn't name, came over him as he took her appearance in.

Her face was drained of all color, save for the cut above her right eye she had had when she arrived here. It was nearly healed now.

And the blueish-black mark across her left cheekbone. It stood out like a blackberry in snow.

Her neck was still decorated in the marks he had given her over a fortnight ago, but they had faded.

From time or the lack of blood circulating, he couldn't tell.

He had to stare for a couple moments before his eyes caught the faint rise and fall of her chest beneath the blankets, the only sign she was still alive.

If this could even be called that.

Perhaps it would have been better if he had finished it three days ago.

And yet. . .a small part of him wondered if it were possible for her to wake up from this.

From what he had done to her.

_'Well, child?'_

He asked silently, watching the girl's faint breathing.

_'The choice appears to be yours alone. Do not put your trust in Fate and let them decide for you.'_

He bared his fangs faintly at the thought.

_'If you wish to live, do so. I will not stop you. And neither can they.'_

After staring at her face for several more moments, he slowly turned and walked from the room, his menacing shadow slowly receding off the girl's form on the bed, allowing the torchlight to return to dance over the blankets again.

As the door shut behind him, the odd feeling that had came over him did not leave. He paused for a moment to ponder it, before sensing a presence nearby.

Looking neither to the right or the left, he spoke, his dead monotone echoing off the castle walls.

"Report to me daily on her condition."

"Yes, Sire," the Invisible answered softly.

And with that, the Horned King was gone.


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32

Darkness.

Heaviness.

Exhaustion.

It was rather comfortable.

The sensation of awareness was decidedly less so.

A tiny thread of it came down to slowly. . .slowly. . .to draw her gently up to the surface.

At first she protested thinly, wanting to sink back into peaceful oblivion, but her senses had other ideas.

Relentless, her ears opened up to catch faint sounds, pulling her consciousness up further.

Too weak to fight, she had no choice but to comply.

A faint noise in the farthest reaches of her hearing gradually grew more into focus as she was nudged from the darkness surrounding her.

It sounded like a group of people talking in quiet voices.

Confused at this, she tried to open her eyes, but they felt like they had stones lying on top of them.

The darkness pulled at her.

_'Come,'_ it spoke softly.

_'You needn't worry yourself with that. Give in and rest. You know you want to.'_

She nearly obeyed, but her common sense told her otherwise.

_'No!'_

It exclaimed, pushing her up again as the darkness gently pulled her down.

_'You must wake up! Open your eyes! You can sleep later, but its time to wake up now.'_

_'You can wake up later,'_ the darkness reassured her.

_'Come with me now.'_

_'There won't *be* a "Later" if you sleep! Wake up Now!'_

Her other half shouted at her rigorously.

Avalina tried to resist the darkness, but the moment she had started to fight it, it immediately seemed to gain strength and began fighting her back.

And she wasn't strong enough to conquer it.

Feeling her brief moment of strength leaving her, Avalina fought harder in desperation.

Feeling herself sinking again, down into the pitch, she tried to scream, but all that came out was a soft whisper.

"Help me."

_'You're alone, remember?'_

The darkness reminded her.

_'No one will help you. Come with me, and be safe.'_

Terrified, she fought harder, feeling something wet trickle down her cheek, whispering again.

"Please."

And instantly, there was someone there.

And they were speaking her name.

"Avalina, you're awake! Guys, she's awake!"

A burst of background noise followed, which soon morphed into voices.

Forcing her heavy eyes open, Avalina couldn't make out anything.

It was all just a blur of fuzzy shapes and washed-out colors that didn't mix.

But she could hear the relief and joy in their voices, and it, in return, relieved her.

"So tired. . ."

She whispered weakly, trying to alert them to her problem. She didn't want to go back to sleep!

Instantly something gently shook her shoulder, forcing her to open her blurry eyes a little more.

"Oh no, don't you go back to sleep yet!"

A voice gently chided.

"Yes, you're going to drink something first."

Another voice spoke.

Gentle pressure on Avalina's back slowly raised her a little, her shoulders and head supported rather comfortably.

Feeling the rim of something being pressed gently against her lips, she opened her teeth as the fluid came washing into her mouth.

It was warm and tasted so good. . .she swallowed as quickly as she dared as the inside of her mouth came alive, as if it had not been used in some time.

It tasted so Good! Avalina didn't think she had ever tasted anything this good.

"Not too fast," a voice gently scolded. "Don't want you choking now."

The cup was empty in a matter of seconds, but she was still thirsty! She needed more!

A moment passed before a fresh cup was pressed against her mouth.

This time, instead of something warm and slightly salty, it was cool and tasted like the ice that froze below a clear spring in the winter.

More slowly than before, she drank it all, before being overcome with another wave of fatigue.

They lowered her gently back onto the bed.

"That's enough for now."

"You can rest now if you want."

"Yep, you're safe with us!"

Avalina felt the truth in those words and was comforted.

Closing her blurry eyes, she let the darkness immediately sweep her away, knowing it was safe now.

* * *

After visiting Avalina yesterday, the image of her sickly face had not left his mind.

Or the unpleasant feeling that had settled on his shoulders and worked its way into his chest when he had been in the room with her.

It refused to leave him.

It was like an annoying servant you couldn't inflict harm on because you couldn't even see them.

He bared his fangs slightly at the thought of them.

The door to his chambers burst open, crashing back against the wall.

The Horned King had became rather used to these spontaneous entrances and barely flinched at all as the Invisible burst into the room.

His surprise wasn't even noticeable.

He had came to the conclusion that nothing the Invisibles did could surprise him anymore.

But alas, nobody on this side of the grave can ever know everything there is to know, not even someone as old as the Horned King.

He was reminded sharply of this when the Invisible grabbed his hands, yanking him sharply up from his throne, and began to drag him around in irregular circles, screaming at the top of its voice.

"She's awake, She's AAAAAHHH-WAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!"

It bellowed, pulling him madly around. (Actually it sounded like two voices)

"She's Gonna Live!"

The Horned King had been so taken by surprise at this behavior, he had accidently allowed himself to be pulled all over the room in eccentric circles before he snarled furiously at them to release him immediately.

Which they did.

Throwing him backwards right into the seat of his throne.

Landing with a thump, he yanked his stole off his face, snarling something obscene.

He opened his mouth to say something particularly nasty to them, but his door was promptly slammed in his face.

The bellowing voices could be heard for a very long time before they gradually faded, filling this end of the castle with silence once more.

Standing up, the Horned King thought over what they had said.

At least, the parts he had made out under all the screaming.

Avalina was awake.

Straightening his robe, the Horned King gracefully sat down again, splaying his fingers slowly over the stone arms.

_'So she lives,'_ he thought, feeling a tiny spark of approving. . .pride? Moving inside him.

The tiniest hint of relief crossed his features for a split second before returning to normal.

_'Impressive.'_


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

When the servants didn't make Avalina eat, she slept, regaining the strength she had lost.

As she grew stronger and her vision returned to normal she became aware that the servants couldn't actually be seen.

Which relieved her tremendously because when she had not been able to see them at first, she had thought she had gone blind.

Perhaps she should have been worried about whether or not she was losing it completely, but after seeing torches that lit themselves, flying trolleys and an evil king back from the dead, she was convinced there wasn't much of anything here that could surprise her

Gusts of little breezes showed where the servants might be in the room, but they weren't visible to the eye. It was obvious they had personality though, by the way they did things.

One morning they had juggled the teacup, the saucer and the empty sugar bowl for her before breakfast, making her laugh for the first time in weeks. She could sense the joy she had given them by her reaction.

They never spoke or made any sort of audible noise, but they had plenty of ways to get their points across.

Avalina could dimly remember that she had, in fact, heard talking the first day she had came to, but they hadn't made so much as a whisper since.

She wondered if they had only spoken because they thought she would not be able to remember it when she got better.

A few days after she had come around she felt much better, so shakily, she got out of the bed early one morning, and with purposeful movements, tried to get her clothes.

The servant/servants or whoever it was, had fought with her fiercely over possession of her garments, and when she tried to yank them away from it, it had grabbed them all and promptly zipped up to the upper left hand corner of the ceiling and sat there, refusing to be moved, while another rustled the sheets, clearly meaning for her to get back in bed.

Avalina took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper.

"I know you're worried about me," she said to the empty air, imagining how silly she must look, "But I've been out of it for nearly three weeks now, and I am going to see my horse, with or without those clothes. I'm wearing a nightgown to the stable if I have to. Its your choice."

The servants seemed to share a silent conversation at this for a moment, before the one on the ceiling grudgingly came down and, with a huff, dropped her clothes on the bed.

"Thank you," she said gratefully.

She was still a little shaky, so them helping her dress was unexpected, but she was sincerely thankful for it. She told them so, but they seemed to brush it off rather cheerfully.

It was almost as if they were saying, "Dash orders, who are *we* to keep her from her very bestest friend? Take that, you stiffheads-at-headquarters!"

Walking slowly to the door, she was positive the servants were telling her not to overdo it, by the way they flitted around her.

It took forever, it seemed, for Avalina to make it all the way from her bedroom to the castle doors, as she had to stop several times to rest a minute before pressing on, but she did not stop.

The servants opened the door for her as she carefully walked out into the open air and headed across the courtyard.

The castle door had scarcely shut behind her when a screaming whinny echoed loudly from the stable and traveled across the courtyard, sending a pump of adrenaline and joy through her system.

It was in his special type of whinny he saved only for greeting her.

Nothing else.

"I'm coming!" She called softly as she tried to hurry.

The servants opening the stable doors and something barreling out of them to meet her was the last thing she saw before her legs gave out.

But the horse was right there to catch her, a massive wall of black.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and sinking her fingers into his mane, she felt the tears cascading down her face and soaking his coat, but neither cared.

Avalina only managed out a single word through her tears, but it was all that was needed.

"Mitternacht."

* * *

The Horned King had seen it all from his window.

Avalina walking slowly across the courtyard, the Invisibles opening the stable doors, but scarcely had they lifted the latch and the animal shoved its way forcefully out to catch Avalina and pull her back up as her knees gave out.

She hugged the beast's neck tightly as she leaned on him for support, as the horse sniffed over every inch of her he could reach repeatedly, without moving and letting the girl fall to the ground.

The Horned King narrowed his eyes as he watched them. He should have known Avalina would treat the animal like a pet rather than a beast of burden.

This was the first time he had ever laid eyes on her mount, but from this distance he could make out little, other than he was very large and very, very black.

This was also the first time he had seen a horse act like this toward someone other than another horse. It was highly unusual.

Horses were only beasts, made to be used any way they were helpful. Tools, rather. Nothing more.

Horses were animals, which meant they couldn't understand things the way people did, but watching as the horse turned and slowly guided Avalina inside the stable and out of his line of vision, the Horned King wondered faintly about that.

* * *

Avalina, leaning on Mitternacht for support, took him inside the stable as the servants lit the torches, lighting up everything.

"I've missed you so much," she whispered as she clung to his mane, not wanting to let him go.

Mitternacht hadn't stopped sniffing her over once. She could tell he had been mad with worry for her, and this was his way of showing it.

She hugged him again as he snorted loudly through his nostrils, nuzzling her back, then her hair, then her shoulder, nearly dancing on his toes with excitement.

Reluctantly pulling away from him, she was able to look him over.

His coat was covered with dust and cobwebs, and straw bits stuck wildly out of his matted mane and tail.

His feather around his feet was a dirty brown, and he had lost weight, his hips and ribs sticking out a little more than they should. He had been in perfect shape three weeks ago.

"Oh, Mitternacht," Avalina said as a fresh wave of tears came down her face, "I'm so sorry."

The horse blew again and nudged her.

Looking around, she took in how the stable had fared.

Sick with worry and with nothing to do, Mitternacht had torn the place apart during Avalina's three-week absence.

The doors on half the stables had actually been removed, and the walls on nearly all of them looked to be barely holding together.

Masses of splintered wood, that appeared to be from the stalls and old feed buckets, were scattered everywhere underfoot.

He had been fed, Avalina could tell by the thin sheet of oats covering the floor. Quite literally, there wasn't an empty square inch to be seen.

Maybe he hadn't eaten because he'd been missing her?

Hoof and bite marks lavishly adorned every single available surface that the horse had been able to reach, most notably the back of the stable door and the one leading to the feedroom.

Looking over into his stall, Avalina grimaced.

The straw had not been changed, probably not since she hadn't been able to come, and the water was nasty.

This place was a complete disaster, from top to bottom.

Shoving a rounded metal feedpan out of her way, (That she was certain she hadn't seen before) Avalina went to the tackroom and got her brushes.

Cleaning the trashed stable could wait.

Friends came first.


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

Wiping the last bit of excess water off Mitternacht, Avalina stood back and looked him over, shaking with exhaustion, but a look of triumph sat happily on her face.

Realizing after about three minutes that ordinary brushes just weren't going to do it this time, she had led the horse out behind the stable where the pump was and tied him up, before starting to pump water into as many pails as she could find.

The servants had taken over pumping and filling buckets almost immediately so she could focus on scrubbing the horse clean.

It was a huge surprise when the buckets turned white with soapsuds, making her job much easier and having longer-lasting effects.

She had to laugh at how white Mitternacht had been. He had looked like a giant sooty snowball.

Snorting in an equine laugh, he had chosen that very moment to shake violently, spraying everything and anything around him lavishly in soapsuds for a good fifteen or twenty feet, Avalina included.

Now, washed, rinsed and nearly completely dry, he looked like the equivalent of the feeling of waking up to a fresh spring morning.

His dark, still damp coat shone brighter than any precious stone, to the point Avalina fancied she might have seen her reflection in his silvery black side.

His mane, tail and feather had curled and waved themselves back to their normal, regal and yet somehow wild-looking state.

It reminded Avalina a great deal of her own untameable hair.

While he had dried out she had sat down on a bench to take a break and clean out all the brushes, as her legs were sending warning signals.

After she washed them all out and laid them out to dry, her legs felt well enough to walk inside the stable and get Mitternacht's stable ready for him. She was very tired but there was no way she was going to let all that hard work on her horse go to waste by putting him in a dirty stall.

Only to find that the servants had already cleaned his stall from top to bottom.

The hay rack and trough were full and waiting, fresh straw had been laid, the water bucket scrubbed and refilled, and the boards that had been gnawed on had been replaced.

It looked like new!

"Thank you," Avalina said gratefully.

Normally she would have wanted to do it, but she was simply too tired now. She was glad they had did it for her.

Seeing a broom literally dancing across the hall, sweeping up the old oats and wood splinters, however, she spoke up.

"Please, don't do that."

The broom stopped in total astonishment.

"Oh, its not that I don't appreciate it, I do," Avalina reassured it, "Its just that. . .well. . .I-I. . .I'm going to need something to keep myself occupied. Y-y. . .you know."

She tried not to flinch at the thought.

She had tried not to think much about it, but judging by the Horned King's behavior towards her, he had no intention of letting her go anytime soon.

Possibly not ever.

Avalina felt her eyes prickle violently and she held back tears with a colossal effort, not wanting to think about what might lie in store for her.

She felt the presence give off a sense of pity as the broom bowed to her and returned to its rightful place in the tackroom, hanging on a nail.

Trying to suppress her frightened apprehension, Avalina went outside to bring Mitternacht in.

To her surprise, she noticed that it was gloomier outside than it had been only a minute earlier, and she realized the sun was setting.

_'I've been out here all day again,'_ she realized.

_'Just like at home, I lost track of time. I guess old habits die hard.'_

Smiling a bit, trying not to succumb to her tears, she led Mitternacht inside and turned him into his stall.

Sitting down comfortably in the deep straw, leaning her back against the door, she watched him eat ferociously, like he hadn't had anything in days.

It helped to ease her troubled mind somewhat.

She was very glad to see him eating.

While she had been bathing him, she had found old skinned marks under the new hair growing in around his knees and mouth, probably where he had savaged the walls and everything else he could reach, trying to get to her.

She nearly wept at the thought.

Her small amount of rest unfortunately didn't last long as a piece of parchment drifted down into her lap after a few minutes.

Fear knocking her heart against her ribs, she unrolled it to see exactly what she expected.

_The Master will see you now._

Feeling suddenly cold, she slowly got to her feet and stepped out, bolting the door behind her.

Mitternacht immediately came over and began to panic, tossing his head and nickering nervously.

"Oh, boy," she said softly, rubbing his face, "I completely understand you don't want me to leave, after everything that's happened, but I have to. The master here is not someone to mess with, and I don't wish to anger him. Again."

Shivering at the memory of those blood red eyes burning right through her soul, she fought back the urge to crawl into Mitternacht's stall and hide in there with him for the rest of the night, but she couldn't, as badly as she wanted to.

Mitternacht was not easily reassured, and it took several, several minutes for him to calm down enough to where he wasn't lunging about.

"I promise, boy, I'll come back," she soothed.

"I've never broken a promise, have I?"

The horse still looked very doubtful, but he quit thrashing around, at least.

* * *

Stepping into the throne room, Avalina fought down a horrible feeling of Déjà vu as she slowly approached the throne, which to her mild surprise, was still cloaked in shadows, despite the fact that she already knew who he was.

Maybe the architecture of the building made it like that.

She knelt a moment before rising, her legs shaking under her weight. She silently willed them not to give.

A rasping sound as the Horned King drew in a slow breath before speaking.

"As you have recovered sufficiently enough to move again, you are free to go anywhere you wish here, except below the dungeon level and off my grounds. Try to escape, and I will kill you. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

His voice was like stone, and Avalina knew he meant every word he said.

Shivering, trying to keep her fear and tears under control, she stammered out, "Y-yes sir."

Not daring to look up, she didn't see the Horned King's eyes narrow, taking in her terrified form.

"Obey my orders, and nothing here will harm you," that cold monotone rumbled out, echoing off the walls softly, adding emphasis to his words.

Avalina could only nod, not daring to try and speak or look up, trying miserably to keep her tears from spilling over completely. She couldn't let him see her crying! Heaven knew what he'd do!

"That will be all," the Horned King echoed out.

Avalina bowed at the waist and turned to go, but his voice brought her to a screeching halt.

"Stop."

Turning back, terrified, Avalina stared up at the throne.

"Y-Yes?"

Panicked thoughts raced through her mind of what she could have done wrong, anticipating the very worst.

"What hit you?"

She paused, completely floored for a moment, until she slowly shook her head.

"N-No_nothing."

"Do not lie to me," he ground out, rising from the throne.

The mere movement made her jump back nearly three feet.

"I'm sorry!" She cried, her eyes blurring with tears as she watched him walk down the steps.

"I-I can't t-tell you!"

She inwardly screamed at herself for panicking and saying something that stupid, to the *Horned King* of all people, but it was too late to take it back now. He was going to kill her for sure now!

"Stop."

He ordered her coldly, stopping two steps short of the bottom, the shadows hiding his face.

Avalina realized she had been backing up a step for every one he took, and stopped immediately, terrified of what he might do.

She felt his gaze staring very hard at her face, more specifically her left cheekbone, where the bruise was several shades of black, purple and yellow around the edges.

"Why not?"

Avalina tried to think of why again, but her mind wasn't processing things properly.

There was a long, brooding silence from the stairs as she floundered for an answer.

Seeing she had none, the Horned King picked up where he had left off.

"Was it the goblin?"

Avalina jumped and stared at him, half in fear and half in guilt, completely at a stalemate.

"Answer me."

Although his voice remained as calm as ever, she saw his hands fist into his robe and knew his patience was nearly gone.

With nothing else to say, Avalina could only whisper out an affirmative, shaking like she had a very bad fever.

"Yes, it was."

Staring fearfully at him, she saw him clench his hands tighter, and she flinched at the action.

Upon this, the Horned King seemed to gather himself and ground out, "You may go," relaxing his hands as he did so.

Turning his back to her as he walked back up the steps, she stared for a moment as he ordered the servants in a voice like ice,

"Bring me the goblin. Now."

Before he could turn around and see her still standing there she was walking out as quickly as her shaking legs could carry her.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

The Horned King was not one to beat around the bush. He did things bluntly and without deferment.

He never did anything more than was necessary at the time unless he saw fit to do otherwise.

He got straight to the point, telling Avalina what she could and could not do, and the consequences if she disobeyed him.

Her terror filled the room, but there was something else. . .something under that. . .narrowing his eyes, he tried to perceive what it was, but it was difficult to distinguish under her current dominant emotion.

She was having trouble holding back tears, and he wasn't entirely the cause of it.

Grudgingly remembering what the Invisibles had yelled at him the first night she came about not even trying to free his soul, he added in a slightly softer tone that nothing would harm her, so long as she obeyed his orders.

After he dismissed her and she turned to go, he noticed the bruise on her face that stood out like a bad coin, and demanded what it was.

He hadn't quite been able to distinguish the other emotion earlier she had been barely able to hide, but this one, while more obvious, was no easier to translate.

When she denied it, it snipped at his already short temper, causing him to rise from his seat. If she wouldn't tell him willingly. . .

Why was he having so much trouble reading her? Normally reading mortals were blatantly easy. He had had centuries to perfect it, and yet, this one baffled him.

The mortal nearly completely broke down in tears as he began to descend, and her terror spiked sharply as she cried out an excuse of some sort, backing away from him simultaneously.

And then he felt it again. . .that different type of. . .

He realized after a moment it was fear, but not entirely directed at him.

Which was a first in the entire history of his existence.

Everyone feared him above all else. Nothing and nobody came close to the terror the Horned King could instill in someone.

Cocking his head very slightly, he asked her why. Didn't demand, didn't order. . .he asked, hoping it would prevent him from wasting his time.

As she mentally floundered at how to answer him, his mind was already turning.

The Invisibles would never do this type of thing, and it wasn't possible for Avalina to hit herself with something that hard by accident.

The only other person in the castle was. . .

Creeper.

Keeping his voice icily calm, he questioned his assumption aloud, directed at her to confirm it.

After some prodding, she whispered out her affirmative answer.

The Horned King felt his eyes threaten to change colors, and he tightly clenched his robe in fury at the goblin. How DARE that little creeper deliberately disobey him?! How DARE he?!

Seeing Avalina flinch at the action, he slowly willed himself to loosen his muscles, calming himself with the fact that he would have a substitute for his robe very soon.

Dismissing her, he turned back to his throne, catching another glimpse of the dark mark on the girl's face. He felt his anger rise just looking at it.

As he walked up, he commanded the Invisibles to bring him that goblin immediately. He had had enough. That creeper had crossed the line one too many times, and this time mere strangling wasn't going to be enough.

This time he was going to pay with his life.

By the time he had turned around Avalina was gone, the doors closing behind her.

* * *

Avalina walked unsteadily along the corridor, shaking so badly she could hardly walk.

Her relief at getting out unscathed was so immense she felt it would crush her under its weight.

And yet, a tiny voice kept telling her to turn around and go back, to prevent the little green creature from getting hurt.

She shook at the thought of what the Horned King might do to him.

Stopping in the middle of the hall, she thought it out.

_'Going back there is crazy. Insane. He could kill me for coming without his permission. The goblin will get what he deserves and that will be the end of it. He won't bother me again.'_

The tiny voice spoke up.

_'Nobody deserves the Horned King's wrath, you should know that better than anyone. That little vermin may have been nasty to you, but that's no excuse. How will you feel if he dies? You'll live the rest of your life knowing you could have been able to do something for him and yet you didn't. Where is your integrity?'_

Realizing she just couldn't stand idly by, Avalina turned and ran back up the hall toward the throne room.

* * *

The Invisible at the door seemed rather surprised when Avalina flew back into sight.

Gasping, Avalina pushed against the wood before the Invisible seemed to catch itself and push it open for her.

Avalina ran about three steps into the room. . .

And stopped dead at the scene.

The Horned King was standing on the ground floor in the full light of the torches, his profile to her, holding the little green creature around the throat about at his eye level, and choking the living daylights out of him, by the looks of it.

The Horned King turned to glare at the door, hearing it open, and Avalina felt her own throat threaten to close off and suffocate her all by itself as his gaze settled on her, his eye sockets first widening, then narrowing as he took her in.

Instantly she regretted this. Why had she come again?

Biting back a gasp of fear, she stayed frozen to the spot, until the Horned King spoke in a very irritated way, still gripping the goblin.

"What do you want?"

She had no trouble hearing him, even from this distance, but she was afraid he would not be able to understand her clearly.

Not wanting to shout and make him angrier, she ended up coming slowly nearer, until she was about fifteen feet away. She simply couldn't make herself come any closer to that monster.

Nearly choking herself, she tried to speak as plainly as possible, but her voice still shook in fright.

"I-I came to ask you, S-Sire, p-please don't hurt him."

She gestured weakly toward the creature in the Horned King's grip, who was staring at her with eyes that looked like they would pop out of his head.

From lack of air or shock she couldn't tell.

The Horned King looked back at the goblin, then back to her, before suddenly tightening his grip. The goblin gagged and weakly tried to fight him.

A soft cry escaped her as Avalina took a quick step forward, reaching toward them, as if she could actually prevent the Horned King from killing the little creature.

The Horned King seemed faintly amused at this action. Releasing his grip the slightest bit so his servant would not die while he stood talking, he turned his attention back to the girl.

"He deliberately disobeyed my orders. He was told to stay out of your sight."

Avalina thanked the Fates he had worded it like he had.

"But he did obey you, s-sir. I di-didn't see him."

The Horned King glared at her, a couple of the muscles in his face slowly working under the sickly green skin.

Avalina willed herself not to get sick.

"Explain," he rumbled, showing that he was willing to listen.

Avalina took a deep breath, feeling a bit lightheaded.

"When I was in. . .in the dungeon, I n-never saw him. I only heard him. So he d-didn't actually break your order. . .did he?"

She flinched as that last bit came out more like a squeak than actual talking.

The Horned King seemed to mull this over for a moment, staring at her very hard.

Dreading her brief moment of boldness, she wished she could disappear into the ground.

Finally, he pulled the goblin right up to his face and snarled, waving a hand loosely in her direction,

"You would be wise as to how you treat the one who saved your life from now on. If it was not for her. . ."

Here the Horned King whispered something so softly, that not even Avalina could hear it, before he continued in his original tone, "You would be *dead.*"

Throwing the little creature to the stone, he snarled, "Now get out of my sight."

Avalina flinched herself at the cruel treatment the little thing was getting.

The gagging, gasping creature weakly picked itself up, holding its throat, and Avalina felt another stab of pity as it looked incredulously at her for a moment, then back to its master, before scurrying in fright across the room, past her and out of sight through the doors.

Turning sideways to watch him go, she watched the doors close, knowing she had done the right thing by coming back, feeling a small seed of warmth stir inside her at the thought.

"Is that all?"

The Horned King's voice made her start, and she turned to see him standing not five feet from her, rather than the fifteen foot distance that had been between them earlier.

Jumping away a bit with a gasp, she couldn't help staring at his face in terror as he towered over her, her eyes fixed on his.

She had read many fairytales, and no villain in her books could ever come close to how grotesque and terrifying the Horned King was.

The aura of Death and Decay came over her, and she tried not to choke at how thick it was. It wasn't something you could actually see, like smoke, but it was suffocating, working into her skin and lungs like mist on a cold day.

Realizing that he had asked her a question, she fought with how to answer. Since he had asked, there was one thing. . .but it was a delicate question, and every fiber of her being screamed not to ask it.

But at the same time, she knew she would never be able to live the rest of her life without knowing, (No matter how short it might end up being) and she had to try.

Taking a deep breath, she spoke, watching his face carefully, trying not to stare. Something told her not to break contact with him.

"I. . .have a request."

She saw his eye sockets narrow slightly. Perhaps he had a hunch already of what she was about to say?

"Speak."

Doing her best not to break down, she started, silently praying she would be able to form her sentences smoothly.

"I. . .ask your permission to. . .tell my family I am alright."

Seeing him stiffen and his gaze harden, she attempted to continue before he made up his mind.

"They think I'm dead," she continued, praying to the Fates, the gods, or whoever, that he would listen.

"Please let me go and tell them I'm not. They. . .need to know. At least, give me one day. I. . .I promise to return."

Feeling herself choke up, she barely managed out the rest.

"Please?"

She may as well have whispered.

Staring at the floor, trying to keep her tears from falling, she fearfully awaited his reply, trying not to think of what might happen at worst.

Nearly two full minutes of silence had passed, (It may as well have been a century of the two of them just standing there, voiceless) but Avalina did not dare to look up again. She was hoping that he might not be able to see just how much trouble she was having, barely holding herself together.

A soft rattle of breath indicated he was about to speak, and it was the very last thing she expected to hear.

"Did you not think, that perhaps it might be wiser to let them go on believing you are gone, now that their initial grief for your supposed death is past, rather than returning to them, only for them to realize you cannot stay?"

Avalina looked up at the Horned King, horrified at his question at first, and then again at how much pure truth were in those words he spoke.

This monster had a very good point. Quite possibly he was right as well.

Completely at a loss at what to say or think, Avalina could only stare at him, then at the floor again, trying to get herself together and process things properly.

He was right.

Completely right.

Except for one thing.

He didn't know her mother.

After several long moments of painful silence, she managed to get her vocal chords to work again.

Forcing herself to look up at his horrible face again, she spoke.

"Your words are very true, sir, but they do not apply to my mother. She will never believe I am dead until she is given solid evidence of some sort. She will keep on believing I am alive unless proven otherwise. I would rather her know the truth, than live in uncertainty the rest of her life."

A short pause followed.

"Why?"

The Horned King questioned, tilting his head very slightly to the right.

"Because she's a mother, sir, and only a mother's love could hold out that long. And. . .I love her very much."

A long silence followed this statement.

"Hmm."

It was so soft Avalina almost didn't catch it, as the Horned King looked away from her for the first time since they had begun talking, apparently deep in thought.

Able to look at him for a moment when he wasn't looking back, she was able to take him in a bit more.

She guessed his height would be roughly about six and a half feet, not counting his tallest set of horns. They would be about a foot tall all by themselves, curving out grandly from his skull, situated a couple inches or so behind and farther out to the sides of the smaller stubs of his other set, which were positioned closer to the front, (That closely resembled the tip of lances) with holes of perfect size bored in the hood of his robe to fit them all through.

She hadn't noticed before, but his horns, instead of being one body, actually had little points on them that branched out from the main part, like the antlers of an old stag that had seen many summers. They all varied in length, greatly reminding her of a gnarled dead tree.

They were the same sickly green color as the rest of his body.

Movement made her look down to his face, realizing he was looking at her again.

Embarrassed that he had caught her staring, she dropped her gaze back to the floor.

"Very well," The Horned King spoke, causing her to look back up at him, "I will give you three days to say your farewells to your family."

Avalina felt the hope caged in her chest burst free from its bars, exploding out and flooding her entire system.

"But listen well."

Avalina's eyes widened as he took a step toward her.

Unable to move her feet, she could only stare up at him as he came right in front of her, mere inches away.

His face turned even colder, (If that was even possible) as he glared directly into her eyes, paralyzing her in his stare.

His voice snarled out, dead and monotone, echoing off the walls, enhancing the force behind them.

The emphasis hit her harder than any physical impact ever could.

"If you do not return before the sun sets on the third day, I will hunt you down, and I will make you watch, as I destroy, Every. Single. Thing. That you hold dear to you. Nothing, and no one will be spared. And if you try to hide from me, their demise will be drawn out so slowly you will wish they were already dead."

Leaning in slightly closer, he growled out, "Do you understand?"

Feeling like her body had completely turned to stone, Avalina barely managed to snap out of her trance and choke out an answer, nodding once for emphasis.

"Y-Y-yes Sire."

"Yes what?"

"I-I-I understa-stand."

He nodded faintly.

"Good."

Slowly pulling back from her, the Horned King turned and began to slowly walk away.

Avalina felt the oddest sensation in her chest and nose. It was like she couldn't breathe! For every breath of air she expelled from her lungs, the harder it was to draw the next in.

It was as if something was being pulled from her very being.

She stumbled forward a step from its force, gripping her chest in a panic, before it suddenly seemed to give, releasing her with a snap and letting her stumble back a step.

Able to breathe freely again, she couldn't help a short, soft cough, followed by a quick gasp as she breathed in air again.

Looking up, she realized that the Horned King had stopped several paces away, his back to her, and she realized what had happened.

As he had moved farther away from her, his aura of Death had been pulled from her body, and after having been installed quite firmly, was not so eager to give her up.

She had gotten immune to it after a few minutes and hadn't noticed it was still there until the Horned King moved away.

Turning his head back towards her a bit, he looked at her over his shoulder, scrutinizing.

"Well?"

Avalina started and shakily bowed, before turning to walk out the doors.

Before she did though, she whipped around quickly and called, "Sire!"

The Horned King stopped and turned his head slightly, inclining his ear to her as a sign he was listening.

"Thank you."

Shocked by the words, he slowly turned around. . .

But the girl was already gone.

* * *

**Please Review, my Beautiful readers! :D**


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

The Horned King headed slowly to his chambers, deep in thought.

This morning had been full of surprises. And not necessarily unpleasant ones.

The last thing he had expected was for her to come back uninvited.

Or to plead for the creeper's life, after the little pest had clearly beaten her.

He never valued anyone's opinion but his own. He hadn't expected himself to listen.

But he had.

After toying with her emotions a bit, watching her reaction at him choking the creeper harder, he had been surprised that her answers actually made sense.

Deciding that that good of an argument deserved a reward, he had ordered the creature out, snarling softly in his ear, quiet enough that Avalina wouldn't hear, that if it wasn't for her forgiving nature, he wouldn't be alive now.

The creeper would no doubt come in useful for something in the future anyhow.

She hadn't heard him come up behind her until he spoke, his patience slim, telling her more or less that if she had nothing else to say there was no reason for her to remain.

He had felt her aura come over him as he stepped in closer to her.

He noticed with sadistic satisfaction how she jumped in terror at the sight of him, staring up at him in horror.

He had not expected her to say anything.

He had not expected her to plead to visit her family.

And yet she had.

Suddenly, the Horned King realized that, despite her complete terror of him and stammering voice, she was willing to voice her requests if it meant something she obviously cared deeply about might be granted.

This girl had backbone.

More so than any knight or soldier he had ever faced.

And he realized that making talk with her was interesting. It was for this reason he answered her.

Looking her trembling form up and down, he pondered on how to respond. Dare he say it, he gave the girl a dark word of advice, asking her if she would rather inflict more pain on herself and her family for a few moments of petty reunion.

Her response to that had been the last thing he expected. It was also the best argument to his previous statement he could ever have wanted to hear.

_"I would rather my mother know I am alive then live in uncertainty the rest of her life, without knowing."_

_"Why?" He had asked, surprised by this answer._

_"Because only a mother's love could hold out that long, sir. And...I love her very much."_

That same loathful word in the same sentence twice. But yet. . .it stirred a memory, or something akin to one. . .something so faint he could no longer remember it, and yet it was there, lodged in the back of his head, niggling at him.

Pondering on it, he didn't notice for a moment that Avalina was looking him over.

Hiding his knowledge of this, he stayed still a moment more, letting her eyes. . .those eyes. . .travel slowly up his form to rest on the reason for his name above his head.

After several more moments, and upon realizing he would not be able to remember what he was seeking anytime soon, he turned back to look at her, catching her gaze, before she blushed in embarrassment at being caught staring at him and dropped her eyes.

The Horned King felt a faint drop of amusement.

Scarcely able to believe what he was saying, he granted her not one day as she had initially requested, but three.

Three whole days.

He took his time in explaining everything that would happen if she did not return on time, enjoying immensely that she was too terrified to even move.

His face a foot from hers, he had asked if she understood everything perfectly, noticing how wide in paralyzed fright her brilliant eyes were.

He enjoyed his influence over people greatly. It was one of the few things that brought him pleasure anymore.

As he began to walk away from her, she had been freed from the power he had held over her.

Hearing her cough and struggle for air behind him, he stopped, remembering the aura of Death he carried with him.

He had almost forgotten about it.

And with her own aura that was quite strong, he should have remembered she would have trouble as he walked away.

All mortals did.

Ripping it away from her too fast could cause damage of some sort.

Turning his head to see how she had fared, he saw her gripping her chest, regaining her breath.

As she raised her head and saw him looking, he knew he had to have a reason for doing so.

Asking her why she was still standing there would do nicely.

Right before she left, he heard two words he never thought he would hear directed at him in his entire lifetime.

_"Thank you."_

Completely floored in shock at this, he had turned around to see her, but she was already gone.

_'Thank you.'_

No one had ever thanked him.

For anything.

Nor was there any reason for anyone to.

And yet she had.

He furrowed his brow faintly.

_'Why? Why did she do that?'_

The echo of her words came back softly to ring in his ears again.

_"Thank you."_

_"Thank you."_

* * *

Avalina sprinted from her room as fast as possible, her saddlebags over her shoulder.

She didn't know a joy this strong could exist until now.

She was going home! Home!

Hurrying down the stairs and out the castle doors (Which opened for her all by themselves, as usual) she ran across the stable yard, hearing Mitternacht's signature bugling whinny of greeting that he saved only for her.

The stable doors opening, she ran down the hall, throwing the saddlebags onto the hitching rail as she went to Mitternacht.

"Come on, boy!"

She cried cheerfully as she pulled open his stall door and rubbed him in greeting.

"We're going home!"

The horse, seeing his rider this happy, became joyful as well, prancing on his toes around her.

Suddenly feeling weak from the sudden overexertion, she pitched forward and would have fallen if he hadn't been there for her to lean on and hang on to.

Feeling a deep warmth spring deep in her heart, she hugged him.

He would be there to catch her if she got weak.

That's what friends were for.

Tacking him up would have gone much faster if her fingers hadn't been trembling so much.

Mitternacht was keen to check the saddlebags, making sure that little scrap of cloth was still secured inside.

This earned a laugh from Avalina.

Leaping into the saddle, the horse was off and running the instant his rider's boots fitted into the stirrups.

* * *

The Horned King watched from his window as the stable doors swung open immediately, allowing Avalina and her horse to break out into the courtyard and toward the drawbridge, which was down and waiting like a welcome mat.

Her horse needed no urging and hit the wood running, his hooves giving a tapping tattoo on the old, sturdy bridge.

Across the moat and through the dust and flat dead grass they galloped, heading straight for the treeline without so much as a pause, the horse's feet throwing up a cloud of dust that followed them all the way to the end of the Horned King's realm.

And she didn't even look back.

The Horned King watched as the dust clouded over the air and hid them from sight.

After many moments it cleared enough to hazily see through, but it was no use now.

She was gone.


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37

"Well. . .what did you think of all that?"

With everything going on, the Invisibles had not had a chance to talk all morning, but now that things had settled down, they were discussing everything that had just happened.

First it had been Avalina getting out of bed.

The second and third had been on duty at the time, and neither had denied allowing Avalina to leave the room.

"We're just the servants," they had told the other two, laughter in their voices. "Who were we to stop her?"

Then it had been making sure Avalina didn't overdo herself. So the two that were watching her had helped her fill the buckets and clean the horse's stall.

One had been cleaning, and the fourth had been on Boss duty. As in following him around and so forth.

Therefore it had gotten the thrilling job of delivering the note to Avalina.

Things had purely escalated from there. They had watched with bated breath all through the rest of the events, heaving sighs of tremendous relief when Avalina and the Horned King finally went their separate ways.

They had been expecting the master to lose his temper with the girl at any minute and it was a miracle both of them had actually managed so well.

"I can't believe Avalina would take such risks. She didn't remind me of that type of person."

The fourth murmured.

"I can't believe the master actually listened to Avalina and let Creeper go," the first marveled.

And then let her not only live to tell about it, but go and visit her family. . ."

The second started.

"For not one, not two, but *three* whole days," the third added, before the second chimed in with its companion as they asked the first at the same time,

"What in the name of Orion have you been feeding him?"

"What in the name of Orion have you been feeding him?"

"It must have been rainbows."

"Or mushrooms."

A short silence, before they both shouted together.

"RAINBOW MUSHROOMS!"

". . .Do we even make those?"

". . .I don't know. If we don't, we should."

"And if we do, I want one."

"Or two."

"Or three."

"I thought for sure Creeper was done for," the first interrupted. "I was ready to have to go bury a body. But right when the master was set to kill him, Avalina came in."

"Poor little thing was scared to death," the fourth said softly.

"I nearly forgot the door!" The second chirped.

"But she stood up to him!" The third cheered. "She stood up to him like a boss!"

"Why would she risk her life to save someone that's been awful to her?" The first asked before the others could do their best Roar of Victory.

"I don't get it. Nobody was there when the incident happened in the dungeon."

"Too bad, I'd have wrung his scrawny little neck and then had him drawn and quartered," the third said angrily.

"Avalina's too sweet to be bullied by that little troll." The second added.

"She has a very soft heart," the fourth answered calmly. "And she is so kind. . .its a shame she is here. She does not deserve this."

"Nobody deserves this," the first said grimly.

"But do you think she might could be the one?" The third asked.

"Its not impossible," the first replied.

"But very nearly so."

The fourth answered.

"Hey, it could happen!" The second said cheerfully.

"Yeah, where's your optimism?" The third mock chastised.

"Back there in the dust with the dead chair," the second grinned.

"Ha! And rolling in cobwebs!"

BURNing cobwebs!"

"On the stole!"

The two cracked up as the first one groaned.

"You two. . ."

The fourth chuckled softly. "I was scared for her all the way through. I had no idea what the Horned King was getting at when he was talking with her."

"If that could hardly be called talking," the first snorted. "It was more like threatening, begging and silence."

"But it was something. And he didn't hurt her, he didn't even touch her. He just made her think he might."

"Which was very cruel."

"He is cruel. But I saw progress this morning, I don't know about you all."

"I saw progress!" The second shouted.

"Me too!" The third cheered, as they chimed in together,

"Aaaannnd THAT's the way, aha, aha, we LIKE it! Aha, Aha!"

With that, the two raced around the room at the top of their voices, screaming, "WHEEEEEEEEEE!"

"Oh for Heaven's sake!" The first exclaimed. "Put a damper on it!"

"The scariest part for me though," the fourth continued softly, making the other two stop to hear, "Was when he started walking away, and Avalina. . ."

It shuddered, not able to finish.

"Yeah, we all saw," the first answered. "I think we were all worried there."

"Is that normal for everything that gets around him?" The third asked.

"I'm not sure," the first replied. "We weren't here before his death. But judging by the way he stopped when he heard her fighting to breathe, I'm sure he knows about it. If he'd walked away too fast he might've killed her."

"DAWWW!" The second and third fawned. "Ouch dem feels!"

"This is serious!" The first scolded them.

"We know!" The two of them bellowed back, not caring how loud they were.

"Do you think this is a permanent thing, or will it fade?" the fourth asked. "Creeper doesn't act like that when he's around him."

"He's probably immune to it by now," the second one answered. "We don't know how long he's been with the Horned King."

"If he wasn't so nasty I'd pity the little jerk," the third said. "But every time I try to be nice he bites my head off."

Directing the rest of the sentence at its companion, it asked, "Why are you staring at me?"

"I can't tell, is your head really missing?"

"Probably."

"Are you sure its not just your face?" The second asked.

"Actually, no, I'm not. Come to think of it, I don't even know where my feet are!"

"It probably doesn't help that you two tease him about the horse, the window, the trolley and every other thing he's done that's struck you as amusing," the first commented dryly. "Maybe if you quit teasing for a change and tried something else it would work better."

"But he never talks to us when we try something else!" The second griped.

"Its like talking to an angry toad."

"Or a miffed grasshopper."

"We now have a new nickname, right?"

"Right!"

Here they both chimed in together.

"HOPTOAD!"

As they cheered, the first one groaned.

"And you wonder why he hates you."

"What? Its pure truth!"

"He walks like a hoptoad doesn't he?"

"He does!"

"Everyone, come here!" The fourth said quickly, staring out the window.

Everyone bailed over to see Avalina and the massive black horse thunder across the drawbridge and hit the dusty ground on the other side, never slowing once.

They disappeared behind a dust screen of their own design, that had been kicked up by the horse's hooves.

When the dust settled enough to see by, they were no longer in sight.

The thick green foliage that sprung up where the Horned King's realm ended had swallowed them up.

"Do you think she'll come back?" The fourth asked softly.

"We all heard what the master threatened her with," the first said angrily. "She'll be back."

"And she promised."

"I just hope she doesn't forget and stay too long. I'd hate to think of what would happen if she's even a moment late."

They shuddered.

There was a small pause.

"On the bright side, though," the second spoke up, "We have rainbow mushrooms, I just checked. Who else wants one?"

"ME!" the third one bellowed, whipping across the room.

"RACE YOU TO THE KITCHEN!"

"NOT IF I RACE YOU FIRST!"

Gusts of wind followed as the two sped from the room.

The others could hear them yelling for a long time afterward before the castle smothered their cries.

"I LIKE MY MUSHROOMS RAINBOWED! AND THAAAAAAAAAT'S THE WAY AHA AHA WE LIKE THEM! AHA AHA!"

The last thing the other two heard before they got out of hearing was the two of them yelling.

"We must save one for Hoptoad!"

* * *

**Alas! For I own naught but this humble writing and characters of my own design! All else belongeth to Lloyd Alexander and Walt Disney Studios. The song "That's The Way I Like It" belongeth to KC and the Sunshine Band. I did not know 'twas a song until a dear friend informed me of this. I got it from the movie "Night At The Museum 2." XD**

**Thee revieweth please! I will love thee as a bonny rose loveth the bright sun! LOL!**

**Also, can anyone guess what breed of horse Mitternacht is? Anybody? XD There's a detailed explanation of him in Chapter 9. *hint* XD Leave a review with your guess!**


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Mitternacht made a beeline for a deer trail at the edge of the forest that rose up in front of them like a fortress.

His long strides ate up the ground like the wind itself, his rider's excitement fueling him as they speedily passed over the dead plants and past the few naked trees.

Fresh air pumped into both of their lungs, urging them on.

Approaching the line of green, Avalina realized the opening of the deer trail was grown over, where they had not gone through it in some time.

With nothing to eat on the other side, it was no wonder.

Realizing she was too close to stop, she simply checked Mitternacht slightly,and braced herself for the impact.

He flew over the bushes that blocked his way like an eagle and landed with a grace that only an equine of the finest balance could manage, before racing on down the trail, not even pausing to get his bearings. He knew exactly where he was.

After another couple minutes of letting Mitternacht gallop himself out for all he was worth, Avalina pulled him up to a walk, noticing how labored his breathing was.

After three agonizing weeks of being locked in a building with no fresh air, no exercise and no mental stimulation to speak of, he was more out of shape than he had ever been in his life, as was she.

After getting the initial adrenaline rush out of their systems they were quite happy to simply walk along and enjoy the scenery as they caught their breath.

The birds were singing and chirping, and the sounds of the forest gently closed over them like a comforting veil.

The million different sounds, scents and tiny bits of normally hidden scenery the forest reserved only for its most attentive visitors filled Avalina's senses to the brim.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, losing herself for a long moment in its tranquility.

What she wouldn't give to stay here forever! Everything else faded in comparison to this.

Opening her eyes reluctantly after a few moments, she realized she recognized the large hunk of rock sticking up a foot out of the ground as her horse passed it.

A few feet off the trail, it was thick and grey and reminded her somewhat of a dwarf soldier.

She knew where she was now!

Not able to hide a grin, she gently eased Mitternacht into a trot after he had regained his second wind.

She had to get home! And she didn't have much time!

Mitternacht leapt eagerly into a smooth and steady trot, his hooves hitting the dirt path in muffled clops.

It was obvious he had missed this as much as Avalina had.

* * *

Over four hours later of alternating Mitternacht between walking, trotting, and the occasional canter, Avalina had traversed her home woods and fields, and was now standing in the treeline a hundred yards from her kitchen door, suddenly struck by a feeling of doubt.

_'Am I doing the right thing?'_ She asked herself miserably.

_'Letting them see me? I'll be leaving again very soon.'_

The words the Horned King had spoken to her earlier echoed inside her head.

_*"Did you not think, that perhaps it might be wiser to let them go on believing you are gone, now that their initial grief for your supposed death is past, rather than returning to them, only for them to realize you cannot stay?"*_

She had realized earlier he had a very good point, and every word he had said made sense.

Tears beginning to fill her eyes again, she wondered if it would be best to just leave.

_'No!'_

She thought to herself, straightening up in the saddle.

_ 'My father did not raise cowards. And my point is far better than *his.*'_

She fought down a shudder at the thought of her captor.

_'Mother will mourn the rest of her life if she never knew. The only way she'll believe I'm alive is to see me herself.'_

Making up her mind, she trotted Mitternacht out of the treeline, making a beeline for the hitching rail by the porch.

Mitternacht whinnied loudly as Avalina shouted out a hello.

Hardly a second passed before the kitchen door was thrown wide open, revealing a strong young man and a peasant woman in the door.

Avalina leapt from the saddle as they raced out to meet her, screaming her name.

Forgetting her legs still weren't quite up to par, Avalina fell into their arms as they all started crying at once, holding her like they were afraid she would disappear into thin air.

Avalina felt her own tears choke her up as she held them both, not able to do anything but whisper one word in the peasant woman's ear.

"Momma."

* * *

After all of them sitting on the ground together crying their eyes out for a very long time, they eventually pulled apart, albeit very reluctantly.

They tried to usher her inside for some tea and food, but Avalina was adamant that Mitternacht be seen to first.

As dearly as she wanted to spend time with her family, she had to take care of the dear friend that had carried her all this way without a single word of complaint.

Her brother, by some magic, amazingly coaxed her mother (who was less than willing to let her daughter out of her sight) off to the kitchen to fix a little something for her before coming out to the small barn.

As Avalina began untacking Mitternacht, she noticed that his stall had not been used since he left.

Pulling the saddle off, she puffed as its weight sank onto her legs, only to have it lifted a moment later as her brother's strong arms took it from her and set it on the saddlestand.

They hugged each other tightly.

"I've missed you so much, Arran!" Avalina cried, starting to cry all over again.

"As have I, little sister," he answered fervently.

"We thought you were. . ."

He couldn't make himself finish it as he hugged her tighter.

"But its over now, and you're home. That's all that matters."

Avalina felt a stone drop into her stomach, and she stiffened in her brother's arms.

Realizing something was wrong, Arran pulled back.

"What is it?" He asked, his deep brown eyes dark with concern.

"And who hit you?"

He nearly demanded, looking at the fading bruise on the side of his sister's face.

Avalina swallowed.

"I. . .I'll. . .tell you and Momma both when I get inside."

Only her brother could have handled something that suspensefully horrible with a simple nod.

He helped her brush down the horse, who was exhausted.

Arran was no horseman, but his sister had had this horse for years and he had never seen him this tired, not even after a long day of plowing in the searing heat and then pulling a wagon axle-deep out of a mudhole during a rainstorm that night.

As he helped Avalina curry the animal down, he noticed that he was thinner than he had ever been in the time Arran had known him.

His sister's horse (Who's name he could never pronounce nor spell no matter how many times Avalina tried to teach him both) had always been thick, but there had never been an ounce of fat on him.

Seeing all his ribs this pronounced through the black coat was highly unsettling.

Where in the world had they been these three weeks?

Looking over both the horse and Avalina again, he noticed the worn look they both carried, as if they had been through something horrible.

His sister sported faint dark marks on her face and neck, clearly something that had been bruising at one time, but it was nearly gone now, and it may have been only his own imagination, but she seemed exhausted and looked like she had lost some weight.

Being so small already, his sister couldn't lose very much.

Arran gritted his teeth.

If somebody had hurt her. . .

After Avalina cleaned out the horse's feet (Arran didn't dare, the horse would tolerate him brushing most areas, but there were many places that were strictly off limits and his feet was one of them) they walked silently to the house.

Avalina's mother swept her up in a hug when she came in, holding her like she would never let her go again.

Avalina gladly returned it, before gently prying herself away and sitting down at the table, dreading with all her heart what she was about to say. It was best to get it over with, but that didn't make it any easier.

"Mother, Arran, there's something I have to tell you. I. . .think you'd better both sit down."

Her mother, having caught on to the mood between her children, did so with a tense look in her eyes.

"What is it, Ava?"

Her mother was the only one that ever called her that.

Avalina took a deep breath, determined to make it at least halfway through without crying.

"If I'm ever going to get through this, there is to be no interruptions, ok? Momma, you and Arran can ask all the questions you want when I'm done."

Choking off a sob as she watched her mother and brother exchange frightened looks, she began.

"Three weeks ago, when that massive storm hit, I was on my way back from Dalben's. . ."

* * *

**So far, only one person has guessed what breed Mitternacht could be. Come on people, guess-guess-guess! XD I know there's more readers than just the ones who comment regularly, so take a guess! XD I know you're out there! LOL If I can get at least four people to guess I'll be thrilled, and I've already got one down! So come on ya'll! XD**


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Her family did not interrupt her as she slogged on miserably through her tale, stopping several times to swallow down the lump that kept building in her throat.

It was probably because they were crying too much to talk.

Avalina told them everything, save the incidents she knew would cause them the most grief. How bad her time in the dungeon had been and how the Horned King had nearly killed her more than once were among them.

The story told, Avalina was free to break down as well.

"You. . .Can't go back!" Her mother sobbed.

"You're my only daughter! My light, my song. You can't go back to that monster, you just can't! Heaven knows what he'll do to you_"

"Mother, stop it!" Arran said firmly, laying a hand on her shoulder as the woman burst into a fresh bout of sobbing.

"Don't scare Avalina any more!"

"Its alright, Arran," Avalina sniffled out through her own tears. "After everything I've been through the past few weeks I doubt anything she says can scare me any more. You haven't seen him like I have."

The mere thought of it sent chills all through the room, causing all of them to shudder.

Despite the fact that the Horned King had waged war against Prydain for many years, besides other countries, no one who was deemed important enough for interrogating lived after they saw him.

The rumors of his hideous appearance had been spread by the Horned King's soldiers themselves.

"You're not going back," Arran said firmly.

"We can hide you away somewhere, somewhere he'll never look. . ."

"That won't work, Arran," Avalina managed out. "He'll do. . .terrible, horrible things to you and Mother if I don't come back."

Holding up a hand to keep her brother quiet, Avalina continued.

"It doesn't matter if I run to the farthest ends of Prydain. He'll destroy everything between himself and me, he told me. . ."

Here she broke off, choking on that lump that had reappeared in her throat.

"He told you what?"

Arran demanded through his own tears.

"He told me. . .no, he *promised* me. . .that if I did not return before the sun set on the third day, he would make me watch as he destroyed everything I cared about. And I'm sure he knows I care for my entire country, and all the people in it."

"That. . .Monster!"

Arran swore. "He is a MONSTER! A wicked, heartless Monster! How did he come back! How!? The Princess said a peasant boy, Taran or whatever, destroyed him."

"Taran did. The Princess and another friend of theirs, someone with a funny name, saw the whole thing. Eilonwy told me all the details herself."

Avalina shuddered violently as those memories resurfaced, not wishing to think about it.

"Apparently he didn't do the best of jobs," Arran said angrily.

"He did the best job of anyone," Avalina said, defending the boy, deciding that now might not be the best time to correct her elder brother and let him know it was a little fuzzball that had stopped the Horned King from taking over the world instead of Taran.

"He was the first to ever escape from the Horned King and live to tell about it, and the only one to destroy him. He did more than all the king's armies ever did down through the years."

Trembles went through the room as Avalina said his name out loud.

"What did he do?" Arran demanded again.

"We could duplicate it!"

"We can't, Arran," Avalina said wearily, suddenly tired of trying to argue with him.

"The Black Cauldron was what destroyed him in the first place, and it was sealed shut permanently when Taran killed the Horned King with it. Then the Witches of Morva took it away. Its not like it can be used anymore, anyhow, even if it could be found. Its sealed permanently. Nothing's coming out, nothing's going in. Period."

Avalina felt a twinge of satisfaction at seeing her brother at a loss for words for the first time since they had started this conversation.

Her brother snorted and turned away to wipe his eyes on the handkerchief he pulled from one of his back pockets.

"I'm sorry, Arran," Avalina said softly, regretting her short snap of temper.

"Trust me, I've thought of everything while I was there, and nothing would have worked. You're just on the same track of thought as I was."

Her mother spoke up for the first time.

"Avalina, please tell me this isn't real. Please!"

Avalina's tears spilled over again, looking at her mother's broken face.

"Momma, I'm so sorry."

Reaching across the table, Avalina took her mother's hand gently.

"Its all my fault. I should have stayed at Dalben's, but I thought I could beat the storm home, like Daddy always used to do."

A faint smile crossed both of their features for a moment before her mother broke down again.

"We only lost him four years ago! And now I'm losing you too!"

"Mother, please don't think like that!"

Avalina tried to comfort her mother in some way, although she knew it was completely fruitless. There was absolutely nothing she could say that wouldn't make this worse.

After several minutes of them all weeping at the table holding each other, Arran carefully broke free from them and got his hat.

"Where are you going?"

Avalina asked her brother.

"Prydain must be warned," he said grimly.

"No!" Mother cried, getting up to stop him.

"If you tell someone, the Horned King could think Avalina was planning something!"

Her brother halted, thinking this over.

"He told Avalina when she was in the dungeon she was down there so she couldn't warn Prydain. If he finds out someone DID warn Prydain. . ."

"He won't," her brother said firmly.

"He will when you bring a mob to storm the castle," Mother said. "He could do something horrible to Avalina the minute he sees you coming!"

Arran realized she was right. The Horned King would kill his sister for it, whether it was her fault or not.

The thought enraged and horrified him.

"Why does he even want you back?"

Arran asked.

"I don't know," Avalina said dejectedly.

"I'd really rather not think about it."

Trying to fill the sudden frightened silence, Arran turned to their mother.

"And how did you know I was going to get a mob and storm the castle?" He asked with a puzzled look on his face.

Mother sniffed, smiling a little.

"My son, I know you better than anyone. I carried you, raised you, and I've known you all your life. There's little I don't know about you. Avalina either. And," she continued as she wiped her nose on a handkerchief,

"You both have so much of your father in you."

Now that they all weren't completely sobbing their eyes out, Avalina spoke up gently after a reverent silence, trying to keep a halfway cheerful smile on her face.

"Now, I want you all to listen. I have three days, and while I'm here I don't want anyone crying. I want to enjoy the time I have left with you and the farm, so let's not act like its a bloody funeral. I want to take nothing but good memories with me when I go. Can you two promise me this?"

Her brother and mother looked at each other for a moment, before looking back at Avalina.

"Alright, Ava dear," her mother said, drying her eyes. "No tears."

"You're right, little sister," Arran said gruffly, trying to hide his own. "Nothin' o' the sort."

Avalina swallowed hard to loosen her throat, which suddenly felt tight, and with a can-do attitude she certainly didn't feel, spoke.

"Right then. Now, supper isn't going to fix itself, Mother. I'll help you. Arran, I forgot and left my saddlebags out in the barn. Would you be so kind?"

Her brother nodded at her gratefully, realizing she had asked him to fetch them in order to give him an excuse to be alone for a bit, and slipped out the door as Avalina and her mother began to chop the vegetables.

The sounds of supper being prepared were the only things in the silence of the kitchen.

* * *

**Ok, two people's guessed what breed Mitternacht could be. Could I get one or two more please? I know there's people reading this thing that never comment. (Which is mildly depressing for this writer, but oh well. . .hint hint XD) Could I ask ya'll to please take a guess? I don't care if you're a guest reader, comments always make my day brighter! XD**

**So Pretty Please with sugar and cinnamon on top? :)**


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

The days seemed to go by in a flash.

And yet, they seemed to drag on so slowly, as if savoring the family's pain that they were determined to hide, in order to enjoy every last moment they were still a whole, for however brief of time.

Slipping back into the old schedules was as smooth and effortless as a fish slipping through water.

Working with Arran and Mitternacht in the fields all day, resting in the shade of the forest that constantly loomed around them, and helping her mother very early in the morning and very late at night, the hours flashed by.

The first night Avalina had leaned against Mitternacht out behind the barn, bathed in the red glow of the sun as it sank below the trees, watching as it sank more quickly than she had ever thought possible.

_'Day one.'_

The second day was just as rigorous as the first, and Avalina had to watch herself and Mitternacht quite carefully, to make sure they didn't overdo themselves.

She could already tell an improvement in her horse.

His eyes were glossy again, shining with life, and he had packed on more weight overnight than she had ever thought possible. He was well on the road to recovery, and he was already breathing easier.

Arran must have broken his back working during the three weeks the horse had been missing.

This posed a problem Avalina didn't voice to her family, but she could see it behind her brother's eyes at times when they worked together.

When Avalina left, what would happen to the horse?

After thinking about it all day the second day as they worked, she came to the horrific conclusion that it would probably be best for her family and the horse if Mitternacht stayed here.

This opened another sack full of snakes she wasn't sure she was ready to handle.

On the upside, her family would be much better off with a horse here to help them. Mitternacht would be better off himself, with work to do to keep himself busy and as much fresh air and freedom as he could desire.

On the downside, she knew he would pine for her terribly, and at the very worst, have a setback and slip back into the violent, depressed and angry animal he had once been, striking, biting and screaming at anyone that dared get within twenty feet of him.

Not to mention that Avalina would be so terribly lonely and bored, trapped in the Horned King's realm without her best friend.

Alone.

Shivering, Avalina pushed the thought aside. It wouldn't do to think about that now.

After the work was done for the day Avalina unhitched Mitternacht from the wagon and rode him up into the forest hills at the back of their house.

Not to mention it was she and Mitternacht's absolute favorite thing to ever do, no matter the weather, it was the most peaceful, perfect trail ride Avalina could dream of.

It could be the most challenging or the most tranquil, the best endurance race where they were the only competitors, racing against their own time, or the most soothing walk they could want.

It fulfilled their every need, be it emotional or physical.

Reaching the top, Avalina and Mitternacht walked along the ridge, the ground steeply sloping down from either side of them.

It was a long way down, but neither felt any fear.

The horse and rider weren't visible from below. The trees closed over them like friends, shielding them from any and all prying eyes.

It was so beautiful here.

It took nearly two hours (Mitternacht trotting and walking alternately) for them to reach the very end of the ridge.

If Avalina had allowed him to canter it would have taken less than half the time, but after working all day she didn't want to push him too hard.

Normally this wouldn't even be a concern but he was still regaining the strength he had lost.

The two of them coming out of the treeline, they walked out for about fifty yards to the edge, literally walking over thin air.

They were standing on nothing but massive slabs of stone, layered on top of one another, that jutted out of the ridge's sharp, narrow face.

Prydain and all its glory spread out on every side of them, as far as the eagle's eye could see.

Miles upon miles of hills, valleys, trees, meadows, fields here and there, some belonging to Avalina's family, the others belonging to other brush farmers that lived a day's ride from them, lay out before them.

The grey mountain range that guarded Prydain's land bridge loomed against the sky in the far distance, dwarfing all else, despite the fact they looked to be the size of pine cones from this distance.

She could see everything from up here.

Everything.

The tops of the trees looked like tiny broccoli tops from up here, and directly below them was a stretch of sandy beach that glowed white in the sun, breaking out from the miles of treeline.

From up here, it was about the width of Avalina's hand, but in reality it was quite large.

The sandy stretch connected the treeline to the massive lake, the largest that Prydain possessed.

From up here, it was an ocean of blue, stretching to the West as far she Avalina could see, before disappearing below the horizon.

Dismounting, she lay on her stomach on the stone, which was covered in several inches worth of forest dirt, leaves, nuts and pine needles, and peeked out over the edge.

The drop made her dizzy just looking down, yet at the same time it exhilarated her with such a fierce joy she could hardly contain it.

Birds flew by underneath her, swooping and darting through the air without a single worry, like beautiful little feathered angels, their sweet songs filling the air around them.

If she listened very carefully from up here, she could hear the roar of the massive waterfall that fed the lake below them.

It was off to the right of her vision, nearly out of sight, but definitely there, a strand of bright blue-ish green against the land.

It looked like a little stream from this distance, but she knew better than to believe that. The falls were nearly 200 yards high, and the force of the water hitting you as it crashed over the cliff to plunge into the lake below was more than enough to easily break someone's skull in if you weren't careful.

From this distance she couldn't see all the beautiful little sandbars and rockbeds below it, but she knew exactly where they were. She had ridden Mitternacht there innumerable times and spent many hours playing.

She could stay up here forever. Here, time had no meaning, and pain and sorrow meant little, but the joy, the pride and the freedom and total, irrevocable peace she felt here was something she could never find anywhere else.

This was her Paradise. Her secret place.

Nobody except Mitternacht knew about it.

The sun was slowly sinking into the lake, setting the crystal blue into ruby red, lighting up the sky in every color imaginable.

It strongly reminded her of blood, but the thought held no malice here.

The miles of forest down below her was set afire in brilliant orange and gold, as the sun did its farewell display.

She knew she should be getting home, but she wanted to see this. To memorize it. All of this. To hold it forever in her memory, so that she would never, ever forget the slightest detail.

Slowly, slowly, the ruby fire receded from the trees, then slowly began to dance across the water, heading toward the horizon and leaving the water a very deep blue, nearly black.

Standing up so she could see it to its full potential, Avalina took it all in, turning her head slowly this way and that.

Slightly off to the left, however, several, several miles out on the shore of the lake, nestled against the treeline and the horizon, she noticed something she hadn't seen before the last several times she'd been up here.

It jutted harshly out from the trees, standing apart from them, yet not far enough out on the lake for her to see it clearly.

Bathed in a ruby glow, Avalina concentrated on the object, narrowing her eyes.

It appeared rather pointy and yet circular for a tree.

And then she gasped, realizing what it was.

It was the very top tower of the Horned King's castle.

Despite this shocking and rather depressing knowledge, Avalina watched the rest of the sunset, watching as it eventually slipped entirely under the lake, taking all its fiery majesty with it.

The world was now darkening, and the view below her now resembled a black abyss.

Avalina had estimated once that she was suspended about half a mile in the air here, but it didn't bother her.

Staring out over her world, Avalina was reminded of how small and insignificant she was in comparison to the grand scheme of things.

When she returned to the Horned King tomorrow, life here would go on as normal, and she would not be missed.

Avalina rarely prayed out loud. It was something done in her thoughts on and off throughout the day, something she didn't actually think about. It simply came by habit.

But for the first time in years, she felt the urge to speak.

"This is for the gods, or Fates, or whoever you are," she said softly, staring out.

"I'm not certain you even exist. But if you do, and if by some chance you're listening to me now. . .I need your help. This. . .ordeal of mine. . .is huge. And impossible to fix by mortal's standards. I'm going to be leaving my family tomorrow, going, to where someone who must be straight from the very pits of Hell awaits for me. My future is uncertain, my family is broken, and they will need something to hold onto. Hope and love are two things that can persevere right unto death, but I would rather we not die."

Avalina swallowed, a tear working slowly down her face.

"My family. . .my mother, brother. . .and me. . .we need a miracle. Nothing short of a blessed miracle sent from Heaven can save us from all of this. If you're listening, please send my family one."

Wiping her eyes, she finished as the first star peeked out of the black sky.

"And send me the best hero you have."

Listening as the creatures of the dark began their night music, Avalina mounted and turned Mitternacht toward home, listening to the cricket's upbeat and somehow mournful song.

_'Day two.'_


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41

It was dark when Avalina came into the clearing that surrounded the farmhouse and buildings, but she didn't need a light.

There was no moon out, but she and Mitternacht knew this place backwards and forwards.

She had grown up here.

Dismounting at the door, she led him into the dark stable, pausing for a moment after she shut the door behind her to feel for the stack of matches and the lantern that always sat on the shelf.

Lighting it, she hung it on a post as it filled the stable with its golden glow.

Mitternacht stood quietly as she pulled the saddle and all its accessories off and put them on their racks.

Slipping the bridle out of his mouth, she checked the corners, noting with satisfaction the marks the wood had scored in his mouth were nearly gone.

His legs were nearly back to normal as well.

The horse's large, dark eyes were tired, but contented, and he nuzzled her face gently.

Avalina smiled as she kissed his nose.

To him, she was his joy, his world. His entire world revolved around her. She prayed she would never let him down and be unworthy of such an honor, for his approval meant more to her than anyone else's.

Even the King of Prydain could not compare with him.

She took her time brushing and rubbing him down. It was their ritual, the favorite time of both their days.

Taking a deep breath, she inhaled his scent and his calmness, which in turn calmed her.

She would need his strength when she walked in to face her family.

Avalina was loathe to leave him and it was with great reluctance she eventually did so, bidding him goodnight.

Blowing out the lantern, she slipped outside and closed the door before walking across the yard to the house.

Several lanterns were lit in the kitchen, providing plenty of light.

Pushing open the kitchen door, her family greeted her cheerfully.

"Did you have a nice ride, Ava?"

Her mother smiled as she placed a pan of food on the table.

Avalina nodded at her mother, gently smiling, determined not to ruin the outward good mood.

"Yes Mother, it was most enjoyable."

Arran came around the corner just then with an armload of firewood.

"Hey there, little sister," he grinned affectionately as he dumped his armload on the woodrack by the fireplace.

"I'm guessing you had a good ride?"

"Yeah, I really did," Avalina said, grinning a bit back as they sat down to eat.

"I hope ya'll didn't need me too much while I was out."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, dear," her mother answered.

Avalina grinned and took a bite of food, savoring the taste.

"Oh, and by the way, I took your saddlebags to your room like you asked me to," Arran said around a mouthful of potato, "And they were as heavy as chainmail. What did you put in 'em, millstones?"

Avalina chuckled, barely avoiding spraying the table with peas.

"I don't think so. If you call a couple of books heavy then you have more issues than I thought."

"Children, children," their mother scolded.

"No talking with your mouths full!"

"Thowwy," they both apologized, speaking around their food, barely holding in their chuckles.

"What have I raised, ruffians and buffoons? You'll be eating in the barn from now on if you can't even eat like civilized human beings!"

Their mother scolded, but although her words were harsh, there was laughter in her eyes and a lightness in her tone Avalina had not seen since she had returned.

She was glad to see it.

It was almost as if nothing had changed.

It was a merry and plentiful meal they all had that night.

* * *

Brushing out her hair, Avalina sat on the edge of her bed by her window, staring out into the black.

She had left it open so the breeze could come in, to cool her off (The house was mildly stuffy) and the song of the night could sing her to sleep.

She probably would not be able to hear it tomorrow night.

Shaking the thought aside, she laid her brush down and headed for the saddlebags.

Although everything she required would be provided for her at the castle by the servants, (That was one other detail she had not told her family. Telling them that there were invisible servants that waited on her would be very complicated for her family to understand at this point and time) she would favor packing a few of her own things to keep that little bit of home with her, and she would have to empty her saddlebags first.

Picking them up and setting them on the edge of the bed, Avalina realized it did indeed feel a bit heavier than it had last time, but certainly not enough to elicit the response from Arran that he said it had.

He had probably been teasing.

_'My silly brother!' _She thought, shaking her head and smiling softly at his antics.

Pulling the flap on one open, she carefully pulled out one of the thick books she had borrowed from the royal library at Eilonwy's insistence.

Avalina so wanted to read it, but Eilonwy would want her book back long before Avalina would be able to return it, so they would have to stay here.

Arran could run them to Dalben's when he found time.

After pulling the other one from the opposite side and laying them on the dresser Avalina found the strip of cloth that Mitternacht prized so much and laid it on the bed.

That would have to come with them.

Picking up the bags again, Avalina realized that there was something else in one.

Feeling down inside, she pulled out a roll of parchment, her heart thudding hard.

Expecting the worst, she slowly unrolled it and read.

_"Hello, Avalina,_

_We know that all this is hard for you and your family, but especially you. We can't ever truly understand what's its like being in your place and having to do this. We have sent a little token of our respect and support with you to do with as you like. The master does not know about this._

_We wish that we could help you more, but you do not need us as much as you think you might._

_You are a strong, capable, sweet young girl with a kind heart. Those things, and courage are all that you need. And remember, anyone can look, but not all can truly see._

_We are forbidden to converse with you in any way while you are in the castle or on its grounds, verbal, written or otherwise. Please accept our sincerest apologies._

_Be brave."_

Brushing away a tear, Avalina carefully rolled it up.

That was coming with her.

Reaching back into the bag, her fingers closed around something hard, covered in cloth.

Pulling it out, she started when the contents clinked together.

Untying the string at the top, she flipped it upside down on the bed and gasped.

Bronze and brass coins lay spilled all over the quilt, shimmering in the candlelight.

Avalina could only stare in awe as she gingerly picked one up to see if it was real.

She had never seen this much money in her life.

Never.

She had never even seen a third of this much at a time.

Being a brush farmer, actual money was a rarity. Her family traded things in exchange for things they needed, most of the time. Money rarely entered the house at any time.

Slowly, she spread them out on the bed where they weren't piled up together, and jumped.

Carefully, she pulled a massive coin out of the batch, holding it up to the light.

It was pure gold.

Avalina could only stare for the longest time, looking at it, half afraid it would disappear if she looked away.

Making sure not to miss any, she swept them all back in the bag and knotted it tight.

This much money would easily support her family for at least two years.

At the very least.

There was more than enough to buy them another horse as well, on top of all that.

Setting the bag on her dresser as she began to pack some things, Avalina could only whisper, "Thank you. Thank you so much."

And she almost felt the air around her get warmer, as if someone was hugging her.

* * *

The next morning, Avalina rose with a heavy heart, her saddlebags packed and waiting.

It may as well have been a normal morning. Breakfast, and then out to work. She could help her brother a few hours before she left.

It wasn't that long to the Horned King's castle.

That thought was rather frightening.

Once when they were resting under a tree, Arran softly asked her a question as they took turns drinking from their water pouch.

"Avalina, does he look as ugly as all the rumors say? Were the rumors right about how he looks?"

Avalina waited a long moment before answering.

"Arran, those rumors are nothing compared to what he is really like. He is the vilest, most hideous, monstrous, loathsome, completely *heartless* creature I have ever laid eyes on in my entire life. His very presence is sickening and nauseating. No words can truly describe how horrible it is. He looks exactly as a monster should, that slaughtered millions of people and tried to take over the world, starting with Prydain."

Turning to look at him, she realized he had gone rather pale.

"Arran?" She asked him, concerned. "Are you alright?"

Her brother lightly shook himself.

"No, I'm not. My baby sister is about to be handed over to that damnable monster, and there is not a single thing I can do about it. Unless millions of innocent people die for it."

Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"I promised our father I would take care of you and Mother. I would be the man of the house, protecting, serving, keeping you and your mother out of harm's way even if I were to be hurt or even killed in the process. 'You are to be the Knight of the family, my boy,' Father said to me. And I've failed him, you, Mother, and myself all in one fell swoop."

"Now, I don't want to hear you start that," Avalina told him very firmly.

"There was nothing in the entire universe you could have done to prevent this. This is entirely my fault for trying to race the storm home in the first place. I made a mistake, and now I'm paying for it. Nobody else is. And nobody will when I return to him."

"But Avalina, I am the Man of the house," he choked out. "I'm supposed to *protect* you, and here I am, watching you ride off to your de_"

"Enough!" Avalina snapped.

"It is NOT your fault! None of this is your fault! You can't help what happened and neither can I. But you can't change the past. Nobody can. This is my burden now, and I'll pack it, because if I don't, all of Prydain will pay for my mistake. And that cannot happen."

Laying a hand on his shoulder, Avalina said, softer, "Do you understand me?"

Her brother nodded.

Leaning back against the tree after taking another swig of water, Avalina decided to give him the only piece of comfort she could, even if she didn't entirely believe it herself.

"And besides, I think if he was going to kill me, Arran, I think he would have done it already."

* * *

**Ok, two people have guessed what breed Mitternacht might be. Does anyone else dare? XD I'll probably tell you all in the next chapter, cause I just can't hold it in any more! XD**

**I don't own anything except the story and my OC's, everything else belongs to Lloyd Alexander and Disney.**


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42

It must have been around two in the afternoon when Avalina pulled herself and Mitternacht from the field, wishing with all of her heart she could stay and finish her work.

But she was expected elsewhere.

After wiping the harness marks off Mitternacht she saddled him.

He blew excitedly and switched his long, thick tail.

Other than being brushed, riding was his favorite pastime, as well as hers.

Looping his reins over the hitching rail by the porch, she fetched her saddlebags from inside, taking her time looking at the house as she went through.

She wanted to remember every single detail, even the unpleasant one at the upper left corner of the living room where the roof leaked.

She would have to tell Arran to fix that before the house flooded.

Going outside, her family was waiting for her on the porch, doing their best to keep their faces cheerful, but they were failing terribly.

After tying on the saddlebags, she hugged Arran first.

"I love you, Arran. Take care of Mother, ok?"

Arran only nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Going to her mother, Avalina hugged her tight.

"I love you so much, Momma."

"I love you too," her mother whispered.

"My song, never forget that. Or us."

"Never."

Pulling away, Avalina pulled the little bag out of her pocket and handed it to her mother.

"I want you to take this and buy a good heavy horse for Arran to work with. I trust your judgement with how to spend it. No, don't ask where I got it," Avalina finished, biting back tears.

"It won't make a bit of sense."

Hugging her mother one more time, Avalina stored it in her memory.

It was probably the last one she would have.

After shaking her brother's hand firmly, she mounted Mitternacht, who was a bit antsy, sensing something was off.

Avalina searched for something to say, something that didn't have "Goodbye" in it, but there was nothing.

Nothing that wouldn't break their hearts even more.

Nodding to them, she turned Mitternacht around and headed him toward the trees, kicking him up into a trot, then a canter after only a couple of strides, not wanting to hang around any more and hear the sobs that would no doubt come the instant she vanished from sight.

The chickens scattered before her as Mitternacht plunged into the trees, hitting the deer trail they had taken only three days ago.

He asked her to gallop and Avalina granted it. Whatever got them away from here!

Anxious to get away from whatever was bothering his rider, Mitternacht leveled himself out and picked up speed, his hooves beating a steady tattoo on the dirt path.

Now, away from her family, Avalina let her tears flow freely.

They ran down her face and fell into Mitternacht's pitching mane as she wept for all she had lost.

Sensing his rider's distress, Mitternacht ran faster, determined to outdistance whatever was hurting her.

But they couldn't outrun the heartache.

He effortlessly cleared a fallen log, causing Avalina to suddenly think he had sprouted wings of some sort, shaking her out of her deeply depressed state.

Although her heart hurt terribly with everything she had left behind, Avalina, oddly, somehow felt free from it all.

As if she had always wanted something more, but had never voiced it even to herself.

She had many dreams, but they would never come true now, she knew.

All that seemed valuable in some way to her was blissfully unimportant at this moment.

Time had no meaning, the past held no ties and the future held no worries, all that mattered was *This* moment she was living in, right now, with Mitternacht and her own self.

The forest colors and shapes blurred into a world of woodland colors that swiftly blew past them, seeming so far away.

Moving in sync, she let Mitternacht have his head, which he took with a fresh burst of speed.

She and her horse were now one.

And all that mattered was the thrill of the gallop.

* * *

Avalina sat underneath a massive tree, eating a lunch her mother had packed her.

She savored every bite, each one reminding her of home.

Mitternacht, his bit and bridle removed, grazed in a small open meadow in front of her on meadow grass and wildflowers, buried up to his neck in it.

On the far side, a herd of deer grazed, sometimes looking up to give a the horse a once-over.

Avalina and Mitternacht had frequented the entire forest so many times the herds of deer no longer held any fear for them, so long as they kept their distance.

Watching them, Avalina recognized it was the young one's herd.

He had beaten this herd's previous alpha buck last year and driven him off, despite being half his size.

He stood proudly now, a scar from the fight on his muzzle and the sharp spikes of his antlers acting as a crown for his head.

He was a six-pointer this year, she noticed.

Avalina could recognize nearly all the deer in this side of the forest, but there were always new ones coming in, old ones disappearing as humans and predators both hunted. . .it was the circle of life.

After drinking at the little stream that bubbled happily past the meadow, Avalina put Mitternacht's bridle back on and they headed out again, in the general direction of the castle.

It was at least four hours before sunset, she could take her time here and savor every last minute of the freedom she had left.

She and Mitternacht spent the last of their free time wandering aimlessly over the dozens of deer trails, listening to the birds sing, watching the deer, squirrels, chipmunks and various other creatures of the wood, drinking in everything possible.

It was in this manner they arrived at the edge of the treeline, where all the green things ended and they were met with nothing but an empty desert.

Avalina watched from the shade of the trees as the wind kicked up swirls of dust over the flat dead grass, feeling her fears return as she stared up at the castle a few miles off.

Where her prison and captor awaited.

The fiery orb of the sun was barely brushing the horizon, warning her that she had better get started.

Her horse instantly felt his rider's fear and apprehension and pulled at his bit, trying to turn back.

Turning him around, she walked him in the opposite direction from the castle, taking deep breaths to calm herself.

He needed her to be strong for him, because he was just as apprehensive about it as she was.

Turning him slowly back in the direction of the treeline, she straightened in the saddle and rubbed his neck.

She was not about to go crawling back like a beaten puppy. She would go back like a soldier, and at least pretend to be brave.

A song that her mother had taught her when she was younger came to mind, and Avalina decided that the best thing to do would be to sing.

Her throat didn't want to work, and her mind didn't either. A good part of her wanted to slip in quietly, but that would be surrendering to her fears AND her captor.

That was something she was terrified to do. She could not show that much weakness if she could help it.

And so she began to slowly hum it as she approached, her horse flicking back his ears to listen.

That small movement encouraged her more than any applause.

Mitternacht didn't even pause this time as he stepped out of the bushes and his feet touched that dead soil.

Walking in a steady, deliberate stride, his head bobbed up and down slightly, almost as if he were humming along.

Avalina softly began to sing the slow, almost mournful tune, her eyes fixed on her destination ahead.

Looking back would not do.

"How many roads must a man walk down

Before they call him a man?

How many seas must a white dove sail

Before she sleeps in the sand?"

Taking another breath, she continued the verse, Mitternacht's hooves providing the best rhythm she could ever want.

"How many times must the spears and lances fly

Before they're forever banned?

The answer, my friend,

Is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind."

Drawing out the last word, Avalina took another breath and raised her voice, speeding the song up a bit, as it was too slow to raise her spirits very much. She needed something a little faster!

Tapping her heels gently against Mitternacht's sides, he happily went into a trot, his hoofbeats now matching the faster tune.

"How many years must a mountain exist

Before it is washed to the sea?

How many years can some people exist

Before they're allowed to be free?

How many times can a man turn his head

And pretend that he just doesn't see?

The answer, my friend,

Is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind."

The breeze swirled dust fingers around them on the ground, as if to emphasize that line, as Mitternacht's hooves threw up puffs of of it that sprayed out over the ground for every step he took.

They were nearly to the drawbridge, but Avalina did not stop.

The sun continued to slip below the horizon as she continued the song.

"How many times must a man look up

Before he can see the sky?

How many ears must one man have

Before he can hear people cry?"

Reaching the drawbridge, she trotted Mitternacht right over it, not daring to look up at the castle.

"How many deaths will it take 'til he knows

That too many people have died?"

She sensed eyes on her as she entered the courtyard, but she was going to finish this song.

"The answer, my friend,

Is blowin' in the wind

The answer is blowin' in the wind."

Hearing the chains begin to work as it began to raise the drawbridge, sealing her in, Avalina did not turn around to see them as she trotted Mitternacht to the stable, singing the last line proudly, to mute down the sound of her dungeon closing in, drawing out the last line as slowly as she could, the syllables echoing off the stone walls in the courtyard for many moments afterward.

"The answer, my friend,

Is blowin' in the wind

The,

answer,

is blowin',

in. . .

the wind . . . . . ."

* * *

**Ok, now for the answer ya'll have been waiting for! I've been asking the last few chapters if anyone can tell me what breed Mitternacht is, the correct answer is. . . .(Drumroll here). . .**

**A Friesian! *Throws confetti***

**The two that dared to guess weren't entirely wrong in their guesses, a Friesian is considered a light Draft horse, (Not a heavy Draft by any means) but they have the speed and agility of a warmblooded breed, like a Hanoverian or etc.**

**I have a few special pictures I picked out off the Internet for what I pictured him looking like. If you want them feel free to PM me for them:)**

**Disclaimers! I own nothing but the story and my OC's, everything else belongs to Lloyd Alexander and Disney. The song is "Blowin' In The Wind," by Bob Dylan. I thought the version that Peter Paul and Mary did was the one that best fitted this scene. I love all the versions though XD.**


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Avalina took her time cleaning every last speck of dirt off Mitternacht she could find, before attacking all the imaginary bits she may have missed.

She never rushed when she brushed him down, but the fact that she would have to go into the castle sooner or later did not speed her up one bit.

Wiping his haunches down with the palm of her hand, she was pleased to see that he was as spotless and glossy as a precious stone.

Tossing the dirty brushes into the box, she grabbed some clean ones and kept going, still singing and humming the same song over and over again to herself she had been singing when she arrived.

Briefly, she wondered what the Horned King had thought, if he had even been watching. She had been pretty sure he had, but whether he had heard or not was another thing.

As she scratched Mitternacht's neck in that place he really liked, Avalina couldn't decide if the Horned King hearing it was a good thing or not.

Most of her sincerely hoped he hadn't, but deep inside her heart, the tiniest part of her wondered if he had.

* * *

It had been rather dull the last three days.

With no one in the castle besides the goblin and the Invisibles, the Horned King had been stuck with nothing to do except re-read all the books he had already re-read a thousand times concerning the Black Cauldron.

Much more of this and he'd have the blasted things memorized.

The Invisibles were back to their old antics, doing everything short of actually destroying something.

They were infuriating, but with the girl gone they were also the only action and movement the castle had.

The morning after Avalina had left, the Horned King had nearly been flattened by a serving trolley that had came flying down the stairs.

The same set of stairs the goblin had sent his trolley down.

When he had demanded to know what they were doing, they replied that they were trying to duplicate what the goblin had done so skillfully.

They had moved furniture, wadded up rugs at the base of the steps, and did everything but turn the room upside down, experimenting with direction, speed, and obstacles.

The worst part of it had been that the other two Invisibles had hounded him out of his own chambers and all the rooms at the back of the castle so they could clean there, so in every single room the Horned King had frequented while he waited, (Rather impatiently) he could plainly hear the trolley going down the steps, above or below him, it didn't matter.

Constantly.

Ceaselessly.

This went on for three hours.

Wondering how in the name of all the gods they could do it so frequently (To the point that it truly sounded like catapults crashing stones into the castle. . .metal stones) , he had visited the balcony to see just what they were doing, and to tell them to shut up.

What looked like every single kitchen trolley in the entire bloody castle was lined up on death row on the balcony above the steps, going down one right after the other with not even a second between them.

One Invisible was gleefully kicking them off, the other was pushing in another line of them from the kitchen.

And they were both yelling.

He saw three trolleys on the steps at once for a couple seconds.

The constant vibrating shook the floor under his feet to the point it was infuriating.

Overturned trolleys covered the entire floor from the bottom of the steps, several feet deep, nearly reaching the door.

Give it another half hour and the whole floor would be covered. . .

And the noise. Great gods the noise.

If it were possible for an army of steel horses to exist, the Horned King was sure that this is what they would sound like.

The constant, violent cacophonous noise, coupled with the constant echoing from the old walls and the nonstop screaming and shouting from the Invisibles, blocked out any other noise that may have dared to make so much as a peep inside the castle.

The Horned King couldn't even hear his own voice when he roared at them to stop, and either they ignored him or they were oblivious to his presence.

Swearing something darkly under his breath, his eyes blood red, he marched out the door he had came in by and went to the highest room on this side of the castle, calling them everything under the sun and wishing for the billionth time that he could wring their necks.

After another grueling hour and a half of listening to the nonstop yahoo going on downstairs, the Horned King was in a temper unlike anything he had been in since that Pig-Keeper had destroyed all his plans.

Thinking of the boy did not improve his rage.

After some time, he realized the noise downstairs had stopped.

How long it had been stopped was another question entirely, as his ears were now constantly ringing and he could barely walk.

He could hear the bellowing before he even got close.

From what he could gather, some of the Invisibles were yelling bloody murder at the others.

Easing himself down to the balcony and pushing open the door, the sight that met him made him suddenly wish he had stayed upstairs longer.

Serving trolleys covered every inch of the floor, door to steps, and everywhere in between.

The pile filled the entire room, so much so, that the Horned King only counted five steps leading down to the main floor from the balcony.

He had been certain there was originally thirty.

The fireplace and furniture were nowhere to be found.

It was an endless sea of metal trolleys.

After staring for the longest time, he calmly turned and walked to his chambers, gritting his fangs together tightly.

The only good news of the entire day was that from his chambers (which had been cleaned spotless from top to bottom, except for cobwebs that hung in odd places where there hadn't been any before) he couldn't hear them yelling at each other.

He would let them sort it out.

This time.

Ordinarily he would have roared at them himself, but his head currently hurt far too much for him to make any noise.

* * *

The third day, the Horned King stayed by his window, watching the treeline where Avalina had disappeared.

_'She's not going to come,'_ a tiny voice niggled at the back of his mind.

_'She will,' _he reassured himself.

_'After all the things I threatened her with, she'll come.'_

As the hours dragged by, however, he began to wonder what she was doing.

Morning turned to noon, noon turned to afternoon, and there was still no sign of her.

Realizing that he was digging his claws into the sill, he forced himself to relax his grip.

_'What is that girl doing?!'_

He thought, beginning to get angry. If he had to come and get her himself, it would be no trouble.

Carrying out all the things he had told her he would would be no trouble either.

It was the fact that she had lied to him. She had promised him, to his face, that she would come back.

The Horned King did not appreciate being lied to.

Right as the sun touched the horizon, he was about to leave and fetch her, when a small blob of black appeared on the edge of the treeline.

Reaching his hand to his left, he demanded, "Spyglass."

The Invisible wordlessly handed it to him.

It was so far away the glass had trouble picking it up, but as they drew closer he could make out a big black horse and a young girl in the saddle.

Something he noticed, was that the girl was neither slowly walking her horse in dread and defeat, nor galloping in fear or alarm, she was trotting.

Just trotting.

The horse came along easily, at his own pace, and the rider did nothing to alter his gait, despite the fact that the sun was slipping below the horizon rather swiftly, and they weren't inside his courtyard yet.

The Horned King narrowed his eyes.

This was not how he imagined she would return.

By the way she had galloped out three days ago, he had expected her to walk her horse back as slowly as absolutely possible, head down, defeated.

And she came now like a soldier, her head held high, her horse trotting along. . .the image of brave resolve.

Something tickled vaguely against the Horned King's eardrums, something faint, blowing in on the breeze.

Gradually it got louder.

It was high, clear, and light. Like a fresh mountain breeze over a crystal, dancing brook.

Narrowing his eyes, he concentrated harder. . .

And realized it was coming as Avalina and her horse approached.

She was making that noise.

Then it clicked.

_'She's singing,'_ he realized as his brow ridges came up.

_'She's singing.'_

This was. . .unexpected.

_'Why is she singing? She has nothing to sing about!'_

He watched her carefully, trying to listen.

From what he could tell from this distance, the first line was on one key for the first half of itself, rose for the second half, and stayed there for the next three lines, before sinking down to the first line's original key, with variations to each verse.

The chorus was the same as the beginning of the verses.

It was a lilting, upbeat tune, yet at the same time it sounded rather melancholy, almost mournful, as if longing for something no words in the world could quite describe.

He could not hear the words from here, but the tune came to him easily on the wind.

It had been centuries since he had heard a single note of music. He had almost forgotten what it was anymore. He had heard no songs, no tunes of any sort. . .nothing.

And this tune. . .this song. . .stirred something deep inside him that he could not name.

He didn't think this feeling had a name.

It was something that he had not felt in nearly a thousand years.

Suddenly, that amount of time seemed inconceivable.

He could only watch and listen as she came inside and the drawbridge closed behind her.

He could faintly hear her singing under the rattle of the chains, but the by the time the bridge was raised, she had stopped.

Gingerly, he touched his chest, looking down at himself, trying to decipher what this unknown feeling was.

Although the song was no longer sung, he could still hear those notes tinkling about in his head, slowly fading into his memories, vanishing when he mentally tried to snatch them.

Carefully composing himself, he heard the Invisible say behind him.

"The sun is now set, Sire. She came back on time as appointed."

The Horned King only gave it a dismissive nod as he continued to stare down into the empty courtyard.

"You are dismissed."


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44

Avalina would have been more than happy to stay in the barn the rest of the night. She had straw to sleep in, Mitternacht to keep her company, apples and carrots to nibble on when she got hungry, and a pump right outside the back door.

She was leaning against the corner of the stable now, sitting in the straw, watching Mitternacht eat his hay.

She loved spending time with him, and he enjoyed it when she stayed for longer than usual.

Her body ached from all the stress of today, and she dreaded going into the castle tonight with a passion.

Staying under the same roof as the Horned King was horrible enough, but the fact that he would probably summon her when she went inside was the worst. She didn't want to be in the same room with him! He was abominable and she hated him! She didn't even want to be here!

And yet, she must stay. For everyone, and every thing she held dear.

Avalina's eyes burned as she desperately tried not to think about all the horrifying things her future might hold.

She didn't want to think about what could happen to her. And the Horned King might go ahead and destroy everything anyway despite the fact she had returned on time.

He was a monster. A despicable, bloodthirsty monster. Only the stars knew how many people he had killed in his lifetime, however long that had been.

Avalina shuddered at how much longer he might continue to exist.

She didn't understand it.

Eilonwy had told her how Taran had defeated him and saved all of Prydain, how she had seen it with her own eyes.

She had said a group of her father's soldiers had went to the castle to finish up anything Taran may have missed, but the castle had literally been blown to pieces and sunk into the lake, all evidence with it.

So the Horned King had been defeated, and all of Prydain had rejoiced.

But now he was back. How was that even possible?

Nobody should be able to survive that kind of death, not even him. And yet, he had.

She had no idea how long he had been back, but from what she had seen so far, he had no soldiers, no minions except the goblin. . .nothing.

Of course, this castle was huge, and could hide anything.

But the feeling of pure desertion lingered in the place, and there was a haunted, eerie feel to it all Avalina didn't like.

The servants only added to the mystery surrounding this castle.

She couldn't sense anyone in the stable with her, but when she was in the castle she could feel them hanging around.

They didn't seem particularly fond of their master.

Her eyes closed, Avalina was nearly asleep, until a big black muzzle loudly crunching on dead stems and leaves butted her shoulder, the grinding noise of his chewing shaking her from her light doze.

Chuckling gently at his antics, Avalina blew lightly on his muzzle before he returned his attention to his hayrack.

Avalina's smile disappeared, replaced with a rather depressed look for a moment.

She wished she could just stay in the stable all night, but she did not want to anger the Horned King by not going in, and she supposed it was better for her to go in before he summoned her. She did not want to be on the receiving end of his anger again.

"Well, boy," she said softly, "I guess I can't avoid the inevitable."

Sighing, Avalia got up, her fear coming back with the movement.

"I've got to face him sometime."

The horse came over to her as she bolted the stall door.

Giving Mitternacht one more scratch, she softly bid him goodnight and left.

He didn't throw a complete fit like last time, but he still whinnied after her worriedly as she bolted the stable door.

The concern in his cry made her heart lurch, wishing she could somehow comfort him.

* * *

As the massive doors closed behind her and a servant took her cloak and hung it up, Avalina (After thanking the Invisible) began to walk across the room to the steps, but a sound to her right near the fireplace made her jump nearly a foot in the air.

Her eyes scanning the room, she saw nothing, but she knew she had heard something, and she inwardly shook, thinking for a moment it might be the very one she dreaded.

Although wanting nothing more than to run up the steps and to her room as fast as she could, her curiosity kept her glued to the spot.

Scanning the shadows, she couldn't see anything, although the fire was blazing, but. . .there!

She fancied she heard a tiny sniffle from the chair in front of the fireplace.

Cautiously approaching it, she called softly so as not to startle whoever or whatever it was. . .

"Hello?"

Complete silence.

Going nearer, she was only a few feet from the chair when a ugly little face peeked out from above the chair arm in her direction.

Both she and the creature gasped aloud, staring.

After several moments Avalina managed to get her heart rate more or less back to normal.

It was the goblin, heint-type thing she had begged the Horned King to spare.

She barely comprehended this as the little head whipped out of sight behind the chair arm.

Slowly going around, she saw the little green creature huddled beneath a blanket in the chair, only its eyes and the hood of its little robe visible, peeking out over the top.

It ducked under the blanket as she walked around. She was positive she could its shape shaking under the blanket.

"You can come out, you know," she said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you."

A muffled snarl was her answer.

Grinning softly, she asked, "What?"

Another snarl, louder this time.

"What?"

This time a snarl followed by a muffled curse.

Avalina grinned. She had played this game many times with her brother growing up whenever he didn't want to talk to her, and it had always annoyed him completely to pieces, inevitably ending with him breaking and answering her sooner or later.

This would be no different.

"What?"

A string of curses and an actual sentence of some sort followed, and she silently thanked whoever was listening he DID have a blanket on his head.

"I can't hear you."

Snarling in fury, the little creature yanked the blanket off his head. The glare he dealt her was murderous, and she nearly flinched. She had forgotten how scary the little creep could be, especially when he glared at her in that twisted way he had.

"I *Said*," he barked, "Master says to stay out of your sight!"

Yanking the blanket back over his head, he sat there, huddled under it like a sulky child.

Avalina thought his answer out, nearly shuddering at the thought of the "Master."

Half curious, and half anxious for someone to talk to, despite the fact that he was rude, she asked, "Why does he not want me to see you?"

"How should I know?" He replied angrily, muffled.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

A short pause followed, before Avalina asked another question.

"What's your name?"

"What's it to you?"

Realizing he was determined to stay snippy, she remembered to stay patient and kept her voice calm and gentle.

"So I can call you by it. You *do* have a name, don't you?"

A snort followed.

"*Everyone* has a name, human!"

"But how can I be sure of that unless you tell me yours?"

The goblin pulled the blanket off his head, glaring at her, and for a moment she thought he was going to yank it back over his head and ignore her, but he didn't.

"Creeper."

He spat, glaring at her.

Avalina hid her surprise, secretly thinking it fit him perfectly.

"That's a nice name."

Creeper stared at her, taken aback for a moment. Nobody had ever asked him his name before, much less complimented it.

"Well, uh. . .um. . ." He sought for an answer.

Seeing him struggle, she decided to change the subject, not willing to lose the only other living sentient creature's company she had seen that seemed to live here besides the Horned King.

"Are there any more servants here that can be seen?"

After processing this, his little pointed ears twitched as he snarled, "No! And soon there won't even be this one if you don't shut up and go away!"

Avalina was taken aback by this.

A bit hurt, she answered in a tone that matched her feelings, "I'm just trying to make conversation with you."

"Well, don't."

"Why?"

Creeper groaned and facepalmed, looking at her with his good eye. She noticed his left was normally kept closed, and she wondered if something had happened to it.

"Can't you humans ever get anything through your thick skulls? If Master found me talking to you he would be very, very angry. So go away and forget you saw me."

Avalina couldn't keep the smile out of her voice.

"That'll be kind of hard."

"Why?" He spat.

"Cause you're kind of hard to forget."

". . .Go away."

Avalina nearly grinned. They were back to square one.

"Why?"

The goblin suddenly rose, the blanket coming off his shoulders as he stood up to his full two feet of height on the chair cushion.

Holding onto the arm, he leaned over and glowered at her, the firelight reflected in his ugly, mismatched eyes, both of which were now open. Avalina noticed for the first time that one was smaller than the other, and his good eye (his left) seemed to be a sort of dull, muddy brown, and his bad one, (His right, the one he normally kept closed) was black and seemed to be permanently dilated.

She bit her tongue to keep from asking if something had happened to him. If he was the Horned King's minion it was guaranteed that something had happened to him at some point.

Glowering, he leaped up onto the chair arm, holding the back for balance.

Avalina unintentionally backed up a step.

He might not be the Horned King, but he was still evil and very, very dangerous.

Suddenly she wondered if trying to talk to him had been such a good idea.

"Because," he growled out softly, his eyes never leaving her face, "If you don't go away and leave me in peace, I'll do something far worse than that little bruise I gave you last time."

Avalina did not look away from him when he glared, but rather kept her expression as neutral as possible.

He reminded her of a savage, halfway sentient little anklebiting dog, the type that would never attack to your face, but rather wait until you turned your back and let your guard down to nail you one from behind.

He was a coward.

In his eyes she saw this.

By extension he was a bully.

All bullies are cowards, no matter what form they take.

And she recognized him as such.

Straightening her spine, she kept her voice even.

"Speaking of which, why did you hit me last time to begin with?"

He looked like he'd been slapped in the face.

"Well, uh. . .um. . .I don't have to have a reason!"

Avalina furrowed her brows, thinking.

"Yes, you do. Unless you did it simply to cause me pain."

"Maybe I did."

"Why would you do that?"

"I don't have to answer that!"

"Was it because of him?"

A long silence.

Creeper's face changed drastically from frightening and cruel to terrified and whimpering in a flash.

Avalina had been studying him, and had made the deduction that the Horned King constantly abused the little goblin. His voice was rough and crackly, probably from being strangled so much. He was an evil little monster in his own right, but she could see here that he may not have originally been that way.

Being bullied can sometimes result in the bullied individual becoming a bully themselves, in order to deal with the pain of being abused by their own oppressor.

Avalina believed this was the case with Creeper, and she couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him, despite his less-than-welcoming attitude.

"You don't have to worry about me telling him I've spoken to you," she said softly, trying to calm him down.

"I can keep a secret."

Creeper looked like he didn't know how to react. Should he be happy at this or hateful?

Avalina smiled at his reaction.

"Promise."

Watching his face closely, she noticed the corners of his mouth weakly twitch up for a moment and his ears slowly come forward, before his guard came up again and he sat back down in the chair with a huff.

"Wonderful. Now go away."

He turned his back to her, signaling that this conversation was over, but as Avalina stared at his back she could not help a chuckle escaping her.

"WHAT!"

Creeper snapped, whipping around to glare at her again, his patience wearing thin.

Avalina snapped her face back into composure.

"Oh, nothing at all. I was merely wondering what ever happened to the back of your cloak."

Creeper looked like he'd suddenly turned to stone.

After standing there frozen for a few moments, he glared at her again.

"It was that monstrosity you humans call a horse! YOUR horse, to be precise!"

Avalina fought down her grin.

"What did you do to him?"

"I didn't do nothin'!"

"He never attacks someone without a reason."

"He's a demon! He tried to kill me!"

"Probably because you provoked him somehow. You can't bully him around like you might be able to do to other animals or people, Creeper," Avalina told him a little firmly, but her voice remained kind.

"Horses. . .mine in particular. . .just isn't like that."

Creeper huffed and yanked the blanket back over himself.

"Shut up and go away."

Avalina sighed. If he didn't want to talk she was wasting her time, and arguing with him, although fun for a while, got tiring very fast.

"Very well, Creeper. Good night."

Avalina turned to walk away, but before she reached the steps, she turned back, making sure Creeper could hear her.

"And by the way, I sincerely thank you for caring for him while I was unable to."

As Avalina walked up the steps she could feel Creeper staring at her until she turned the corner and disappeared from sight.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45

As Avalina headed through the halls to her room, the torches lighting and showing her the way, she couldn't help but feel slightly relieved that she was out of the goblin's presence.

She didn't think she was afraid of him. . .but all the same, he was one she wouldn't dare trust for a single second.

Pushing open her door, she was looking so forward to a bath, some food and some solitude in her room. . .

But there was no food waiting for her at the table.

Avalina frowned, more at her own self than the fact that supper wasn't waiting.

_'Was I expecting it?'_ She thought quizzically.

But there was a small piece of parchment on the table.

Stifling a groan, she stiffly walked over to it and picked it up. The presence around her felt almost apologetic.

_The Master will see you._

Avalina rubbed her temples.

"Great. You know, you people should really find another way of writing this out," she said, laying the note back on the table.

"You've written me the exact same sentence every single time. Find something new."

Frustrated, she turned to leave, but a light breeze at her elbow made her turn around to her right.

A bath was drawn for her in the washroom, waiting.

Gratefully, she stepped in, thanking the Invisibles before closing the door.

When she was finished, she went to put her old clothes on, but the Invisible snatched them away just out of reach.

"Not this again!" Avalina cried, exasperated.

The Invisible pushed the door to her main room open and Avalina had no choice but to follow, clad in only her towel.

She gasped.

A dress had been laid out on her bed, obviously meant to change into.

Slowly, she approached.

It was a bright, light green, like the brand new leaves at the start of spring in the forest. Tiny peridots and topaz pieces were sewn into the neckline and into intricate patterns going down the bodice. Gold trim accented the edges of the fabric.

The skirt was full and flowing, reaching to her ankles, the sleeves ended a couple of inches above her elbows, and a pair of delicate looking lace-up boots (also green and gold) sat waiting on the floor.

The design was elaborate, but nothing hideously outlandish. It was beautiful.

Reverently, Avalina reached out and brushed her fingers delicately across the fabric.

It was silk. Real silk.

Too stunned to voice words of any type, she allowed the Invisibles to help her into the dress and fix her hair, before they turned her around and she saw her reflection in the dresser mirror.

Avalina had never worn anything except peasant clothes, not even when she visited the princess. The very idea of ever wearing anything else had just never occurred to her.

Avalina had to stare for a good, long minute before she realized that the beautiful lady gazing back at her, in the dress fit for a princess, was indeed her own reflection.

Her mother had always told her she was beautiful, but she had never taken any notice until now, always laughing and shrugging it off, before teasingly telling her mother, "Only if you compare me with a thornbush!"

". . .Wow."

That was all the stunned girl could manage out.

The Invisibles had taken some hair from either side, and now two braids were pulled back across the sides of her head, almost like a small crown. Turning herself slightly sideways, she saw the two braids joined together at the back in one single braid that went on to its full length, the rest of her hair left loose to tumble around her shoulders.

It was so wild the Invisibles had clearly had some trouble, but they had managed.

"I. . .I don't know what to say."

Avalina whispered, still stricken with that image in the mirror.

"There is no way on this earth that's me. Even the mirrors are enchanted."

She was positive one of the Invisibles gave a huff of indignation.

"Oh, I didn't mean you!"

She corrected, turning to look at the empty air beside her.

"I don't doubt your abilities in the slightest. Its just that. . .I've never seen. . .I didn't know. . .this side of me even existed."

_'Maybe it didn't until now.'_

The Invisibles gently ushered her out the door and lit the way through the castle.

* * *

Avalina was positive she had not been down this hall before, and that thought was confirmed when she stepped through the massive double doors.

She was looking into a dining hall.

A huge table lay stretched out in front of her, its length accented by the shadows and the torchlight, covered with dishes.

And at the other end sat the Horned King.

Avalina shook as she slowly came inside.

_'This evening just got a whole lot worse.'_

As the door shut, she slowly came to her end of the table and sat down as an Invisible pulled her chair out for her.

Avalina looked uncomfortably across the table, her heart pumping double time in her chest.

The table was long, but small enough that they could speak without shouting and be able to hear each other.

Avalina wished it was much longer.

A sound that sounded like a muffled sneeze echoed through the room, making her jump.

Avalina wondered if he expected her to speak. If he did, she had absolutely no idea what to say in return.

After a silence, her stomach knotted as she heard him speak.

"Enjoy."

After a moment, Avalina gathered that he meant the food.

Casting a nervous glance at him, she stammered out a thank you.

At that, the dishes began to move all on their own around to her end of the table, letting her pick and choose what she did and didn't want.

Most of it looked like stuff she'd never seen before in her life, but she wasn't going to give it much of a second glance.

There were so many dishes, that by the time she had taken only a couple of small spoonfuls from several, she had to hiss under her breath for the Invisibles to stop bringing them round, which, thankfully they did. She didn't want to get out any more than she was certain she would be able to clean up, but she was so hungry!

Although it had been three days, her body had not yet recovered from the fortnight of abuse in the dungeon. She had hidden it from her family, lest they worry too much, but she had had to restrain herself from eating everything in sight the first day home. She could still feel her ribs much more plainly than she should have, and she was now twice as grateful to the Invisibles for making sure the dress wasn't tight enough to show the effects of her being starved so long.

Knowing that if she dared to look up at the Horned King she would lose her appetite completely (She had all *but* lost it when she walked in the door) she did her absolute best to concentrate on her food and nothing else, but she could plainly feel his stare raking her over, watching every move she made.

Every. Single. Move.

Every breath, every twitch of her fingers, every bite she took, he was _*staring*_.

It was making her increasingly nervous and the wonderful food someone had obviously gone to great pains to make was beginning to taste more and more like a thick, tasteless paste.

Eating had never been such a chore.

She had known the instant she had seen the dress something had been up, but hadn't completely comprehended it until she walked into the dining hall.

She was positive she could hear faint whispers just outside of her hearing, but she did not stop what she was doing to listen.

The Horned King had not taken his eyes off her once, and judging by the silence down at the other end of the table, he wasn't eating anything either. She would sometimes catch flashes of movement out of the corner of her eye down where he sat, and once when she reached for her glass to get a drink, the movement had caught her eye again and she had involuntarily looked up to watch him take a drink from his goblet, his eyes boring into hers over his drink the instant she looked up at him.

Instantly she had gone ice cold, freezing in place like a deer might when seeing a hunter for the first time.

She had stared, completely involuntarily, at the Horned King for several moments, watching him as he had been watching her all evening, before a spoon clinked rather loudly to her left.

All of a sudden she felt her body become flesh once more, and she broke away from his stare, glad to turn her attention somewhere else.

An Invisible was at her elbow, offering something that looked very much like dessert of some type, and it looked absolutely delicious.

She wanted to try some, but instead she reluctantly shook her head no and pushed her plate away, signaling she was through.

She could tell it felt offended, but she could do nothing about that.

"No?"

She very nearly started but choked in her bodily reflexes at the very last second, forcing herself to look at the Horned King at the other end of the table.

She shook her head, willing her voice not to crack on her.

"No sir."

". . .You dislike it?"

"I don't know, sir."

The longer she stared at him, the harder she felt the contents of her stomach push against her throat, which she held down with a massive effort.

It was an odd memory to have about now, but it was disgusting enough to fit this scenario.

When she and her brother had been younger and their mother was busy or they were out where no one could bother them, if they had a disagreement/argument, she and her brother would dare each other to eat things that they knew would make the other sick, and then the longest one to keep it down got the pretty rock or whatever other little trinket they had recently found as a trophy.

It was a wonder they were both still alive.

And she credited those past experiences with her ability to keep her food where it was supposed to be now.

When Mother said her children never argued, that was because she had never known about what went on in the woods behind the barn.

But, as the saying goes, ignorance is bliss. Sweet, sweet bliss. Much like the bliss the entire country of Prydain was currently living in. And oh, by Orion did she envy them.

Avalina was pulled back to the present as the Horned King gave the faintest of nods.

"Very well. You are dismissed."

Silently thanking the gods, she carefully got up, her weak legs sending signals that she had better hurry before she collapsed, but a soft command at the other end of the table caused her to turn around.

The Horned King lifted his left hand and slowly, beckoned to her to come closer.

Feeling like ice all over again, her shivering resumed as she slowly came nearer to him, not daring to look up at his face.

She stopped the instant she felt the faint wall of his aura press lightly against her, a good ten feet from his chair. Not wanting to get close enough to breathe in his aura by accident like she had last time, she waited, her eyes on the floor near his feet, as she waited for him to do or say whatever it was he was going to.

_'Why on earth is he doing this to me?'_ She thought in despair.

_'Can't he just leave me be?'_

_'No, he can't,' _her common sense replied matter-of-factly.

_'He is the master here, you are the prisoner. He can do whatever he wants, and you can't do a thing about it.'_

Faint movement caught her eyes, and entirely against her will, her eyes flicked upwards again faintly to rest on his hands rather than the floor.

His fingers were longer than Avalina could have ever thought humanely possible, and if If she didn't know better, she might have been fooled into thinking that the Horned King was weak because of his skeletal state, simply by the slow, nearly lulling way he moved.

Underneath that sickening green skin, she could see every little groove and rise of every single bone in his hands as his fingers lightly, almost gently, gripped the arms of his chair, the claws at the ends of his fingers being slowly pulled out of sight under his second knuckle joints as his hands slowly fisted around the chair arm, before the muscles slowly relaxed and his fingers splayed gracefully out to their original position, revealing their true length.

It was almost like watching a spider's slow, nigh-hypnotic crawl as it would walk over its web to its prey. . .

Avalina was snapped roughly from her thoughts as the Horned King's dark, deathly voice softly echoed out in the silence of the chamber and made her jump slightly.

"I did not expect you to bring your horse back."

Startled, Avalina raised her eyes up, immediately wishing she hadn't as his eyes met hers.

Fear for her horse stirred in her stomach and prompted her to speak.

"Will he be safe here? Is he in danger?"

The fear in her voice was audible this time, and she stared back desperately at him, terrified that something might happen to Mitternacht.

She was bursting to ask something else, but the Horned King spoke first, ignoring her questions.

"I did not expect him to come so willingly back through my gates a second time. All of the previous horses that stayed here for too long went mad."

Her heart thudding with fear for her horse, she felt her face pale.

". . .All of them, sire?"

The Horned King stared intently at her face, and she did not look away this time, although her eyes burned with the intensity of his stare. She had to have an answer!

"All of them."

Fighting back her panic, she answered him, her voice shaking.

"I c-can't turn him loose, Sire, if that's what you're i-i-implying that I do."

A pause in the conversation, and Avalina cringed, terrified that she had angered him.

"Explain."

Swallowing hard, Avalina got her sentence out with effort.

"Because he won't leave me."

Another pause, longer than the first, dragged on. Avalina, now that she had said everything she could (She did not dare repeat her questions from earlier) she returned her eyes to the floor.

"You are dismissed."

Not trusting herself to look at his face, she carefully attempted a curtsy before turning to go.

Right before the doors closed, mercifully placing her out of his line of vision, she heard him speak, causing her to stop dead in her tracks.

"Keep him out of the other stable."

Turning again, she bowed from the waist, too shaky by now to curtsy again.

"Y-Yes, S-sire, as you wish."


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

"Well," the first Invisible huffed irritably.

"That could have gone better."

The Invisibles were discussing what had just happened in the dining hall as they cleaned everything up. The Horned King had vanished, presumably to his his chambers, leaving them to themselves.

"It could have gone worse, though," the third replied cheerfully as it picked out a few pieces of meat and some spoonfuls of various side dishes, putting some for Creeper on a plate. "One of them could have choked!"

"Poor Avalina was about to," the second said. "Our master's skills as a host are considerably lacking."

"I told the Horned King to say something, but he sure didn't try very hard."

"Oh, yeah, I heard," the second snickered to the third.

Mimicking the faked-out sneeze its companion had uttered in the dining hall that had scared Avalina, it did its best impression of a wreeze. (Word+Sneeze=Wreeze)

"Say Something!"

They laughed.

"I can't believe you did that and let Avalina hear you, after we all plainly agreed to what was said in the letter we sent her," the first one said irritably.

"She didn't hear what I said!"

"But she still *heard* you! Are you not getting the point!" The first Invisible ranted.

". . . . .Well, if you want to get technical, then she heard you too, you know," the third one said, a hint of superiority in its voice.

"She did not! I didn't say a word!"

"No, but you banged those spoons around in that blackberry cobbler like it said something mean to you!"

"Yeah, you were so loud, you could be the gongmaster on spoons!" The second one laughed.

"But. . .that's. . .no, I. . .that wasn't. . ."

The fourth laughed as the first struggled with how to answer.

"I think they've got you. . .Dusty."

The other two, barely holding onto themselves anyway, lost it completely, laughing for all they were worth.

"Oh, come on, don't you start!" The first Invisible cried in exasperation.

The fourth let out a very small cackle.

"Sorry. I just couldn't resist."

"They're rubbing off on you."

". . .Hm. . .maybe a little. Isn't it wonderful?"

"No."

"Oh."

After a pause the fourth one changed the subject.

"Avalina couldn't believe it was herself in that mirror. I don't think that child's ever had anything pretty to wear in her life."

"I know," the first replied, its irritation from earlier gone. "Those colors fit her very well. She looked like a princess."

"Ol' Billy-Bob-Joe noticed too," the third Invisible added.

"Da signs, mon," the second said in a deeply reverent tone, "I see dem."

A swish of air suggested the third one had bowed. "Yes, Master!"

". . . .Who?" The fourth asked as the first groaned again.

"Billy-Bob-Joe!" The second answered.

"You see, the two weeks Avalina was in the dungeon and while she was recovering and then when she was gone, we didn't come up with any new names," the third one explained.

"And since we give him a new nickname every week, and since Avalina got thrown in the dungeon till now, its been nearly a month, so we had to make up for lost time and call him three at once for this week. Get it now?"

The two cackled, "BILLY-BOB-JOE!"

The first set its last dish on its trolley with a little more force than necessary, taking in the dents that adorned the thing.

"These trolleys are a disgrace. The entire stock of trolleys we had, all ruined because *you two* couldn't stay out of trouble for a few hours."

"We can't even stay out of trouble for a few minutes, you should have known better than to set your hopes so high in the first place!"

"Also, why in Orion's Belt do we HAVE so many trolleys to begin with? I mean, we're only serving, like," The third Invisible did a quick head count under its breath, before continuing in its normal tone, "Three people? Why?"

"Besides, we didn't *Ruin* them," the second one said, sounding offended. "We *Characterized* them. Now, no two are alike. They've got their individual dents!"

"You two will have individual dents of your own one of these days, and I'm going to laugh."

"I thought we already did."

"Shut up and work!" The first Invisible shouted as it marched out the door, pushing the trolley in front of it. "I've had it with both of you!"

After a pause, the second murmured very quietly, "You think we should warn them that that's the one with the bad wheel?"

". . .Nope. Besides, we set the living room up, didn't we?"

"Yep."

". . .Roll on."

They whisked out the door after the first, leaving their trolleys.

The fourth presence, now alone in the room, calmly began to lay the silverware it held onto its own trolley.

"Three," It said as it laid down three spoons, sounding as dull and monotone as cardboard.

"Two. . ." It laid down two forks, pausing before laying down the knife. . .

"One. . ."

An explosion of noise sounded from the front of the castle, actually making the stones tremble slightly.

A montage of metal wheels hitting stone, yells of encouragement, screams of horror and the crashing tinkle of broken china echoed loudly through the halls for several moments, before a heavy thud vibrated hard through the floor.

Total silence for two seconds.

Whoops of joy and exhilaration reached the fourth Invisible plainly.

"WHOOOO-HOOOOOO!"

"WE DID IT!"

"WE COPIED CREEPER'S STUNT!"

"YE-HAW!"

Before a scream of rage from the first rang out.

"YOU GUYS ARE SO DEAD!"

Screams of laughter and the sound of about sixteen doors slamming was all that could be heard.

Chuckling to itself over the antics of the others, it finished the entire table without a single sour thought.

It was so good to have the pranking duo back to their old selves, even if they did annoy the living daylights out of the other one. And the fourth enjoyed most of their pranks nearly as much as they did.

After leaving all the dishes neatly stacked in the kitchen, it headed to the Horned King's chambers. It was its turn for Boss Duty tonight.

* * *

In his chambers, the Horned King was pacing.

He had toyed with her all through dinner, letting her feel the full force of his stare.

The Invisibles had not been much help. One had sneezed right by his face, telling him to talk to her.

Having been bored the past weeks, he delighted in having at least something to do, and he had enjoyed tormenting the girl.

When he had summoned her to come closer to him, it had been for several reasons.

One had been to see how good of a job the Invisibles had done, picking out her dress.

They had done very well.

Another was to see how she was physically after being so long in the dungeon.

She still carried that starved expression, but she had improved.

One he had not thought of until she came closer to him, was her aura. It drifted gently over him, gaining his attention instantly.

His hands had worked slowly in thought, almost as if he could feel it beneath his fingers.

It was nearly strong enough.

He had been in existence for centuries, and he had never ran across anyone with an aura this strong. It radiated off of her like rays off the sun. Something he could not see with his eyes, but he had felt it drift lightly across his hands and face, almost like a caress.

Idly, he put his fingers to his face.

Although he was no longer in her presence, he could still feel it.

And it felt. . .different.

* * *

As the Invisible approached the master's chambers, it saw a magnificent poster spread out over the door, with the words

"Beware Of The Billy-Bob and all his cobweb Jo(k)es"

emblazoned proudly across it in bold red letters.

The snickering snort that came out sounded eerily loud in the silence of the room.

Giving the best impression of nonchalance, it knocked twice on the door, before entering.

The Horned King had apparently been deep in thought before it entered, and he looked irritated at being disturbed.

"Yes?" He growled, indicating this was not a good time.

"I hate to interrupt, Sire, but I couldn't help wondering if you've seen the outside of your door lately?"

* * *

**Boy, boy, those Invisibles. . .class act, aren't they? XD Please review! :D**


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

Avalina, trembling from relief, exhaustion, and then fresh fear, walked carefully to her room.

All the torches had been lit already, and she could sense no servants nearby.

Being all alone for once in a very large castle was faintly unnerving, but she had other things in mind.

_'All the previous horses that stayed here for too long went mad.'_

Avalina was terrified for Mitternacht. Terrified he might go mad as well.

_'What have I done?' _She thought, close to tears. _'I can't turn him loose, he'd never leave me. . .but he can't stay here, can he? He'll go mad if he stays.'_

Shivering, Avalina closed her door and began to carefully get out of the dress and into her nightgown, nearly in tears.

_'I can't lose him, I just can't. Not Mitternacht. I've already lost everything else.'_

Feeling something damp on her face, she wiped her cheek to realize she really was crying.

Hurriedly getting out of the dress so she wouldn't get tear stains on it, she carefully hung it up in her wardrobe and pulled open the window.

It was nothing but blackness. No light of any type to make out anything, nothing was visible. Nothing. She may as well have been staring at a thick black piece of cloth over the window instead of the night. When she looked up at the sky, it was the same as looking down into the pitch. Nothing.

And there was no noise, just as Avalina had expected, but it still felt terrible.

No crickets, no other insects, no birds, no beasts. . .nothing but dead silence.

There was a soft breeze that whistled softly against the stone and slipped into the room, cooling her off and chilling her slightly.

She stood by the window for a time, straining to hear anything, see anything, but there was nothing.

The still chilled her. It reminded her of how truly alone she was, with not even the insects about.

Shivering in fear, she abandoned her idea of leaving her window open and bolted it tightly instead, although if something wanted in, there wouldn't be much she could do about it.

Huddling under the covers, all of the pain, the stress, the fear, and the total, overwhelming despair came free, and she sobbed softly into her pillow, wishing with all her might she was anywhere but here.

She would never see her family again. Her friends. Nothing familiar would she ever again lay eyes on. The sun, the flowers, the forest and all its wonders. . .nothing. And she might possibly lose Mitternacht as well.

She was doomed to stay here for the rest of her life. . .however long that would be. Locked in a castle with a monster straight from Hell, responsible for wiping out nearly whole countries before he decided to hit Prydain next.

Who knew what he would do to her.

Avalina curled up under the blanket and cried, feeling as if her heart was breaking into a thousand tiny pieces.

* * *

The next morning, Avalina had woken up early, after a nearly sleepless night. The Invisibles had served her breakfast in her room, and she had stayed in the stable for several hours afterward, watching Mitternacht for the slightest signs of what the Horned King had told her about.

The Invisibles had ushered her inside at some point to eat dinner in her room, before leaving a note saying that she could explore if she wished.

The first part of her screamed absolutely not.

She didn't want even the slightest possibility of running into the Horned King again. She shook at the mere thought of him.

For the longest time she paced her room in thought, before stepping out into the hall, shaking like a leaf.

If she was going to stay here the rest of her life, she might as well get acquainted with the place. She would probably see him far more than she wanted at any rate.

Walking slowly down the halls, she noticed that all of them were lit, enabling her to take any path she wanted. Glancing down each one, it was impossible to tell where they each went, so Avalina randomly made her selection and started walking.

The stone stretched on in front of her, endlessly. There were rooms sometimes off to the sides, and she would visit them. They were clean, but they looked just as abandoned as the rest of the place.

There were all types of rooms. The lack of any telltale pieces of furniture made it a bit hard to tell what they had been originally, but there were tables, chairs in a few, the usual.

She saw no beds at all. The only one she had seen in the entire castle was in her own room.

As she kept walking, observing, she slowly began to lose her initial fright, becoming too enamored with exploring to really worry about meeting anyone.

She took another flight of stairs that led her to the next floor, and after wandering the halls and rooms, pushed open yet another door. . .

And stopped dead.

For there, in the center of the room, was the most beautiful piano Avalina had ever seen.

Approaching, she took in the rich mahogany wood, the brilliant ivory keys. . .reverently she brushed it with her fingers. It was like something from a dream! Not to mention it was the last possible thing she had expected to find in this place.

She itched to play it, but fear of being heard overrode her want. She hadn't seen the Horned King yet today, and she wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

But yet. . .

She stared longingly at the row of keys that seemed to wink at her. It had been so long since she had played anything. . .her heart ached at how long it had been.

Being poor, her family did not own such a thing. Music was considered frivolous and impractical, especially when food on the table mattered so much more.

But when Avalina had visited the royal castle per request (Eilonwy had wanted her to come) she had learned to read those odd little marks on those lined papers the rich people called sheet music. And by extension, she had learned to play a few instruments and the piano was one of them.

And she loved it with a passion that could only be overruled by spending time with Mitternacht. Music had instantly become her favorite hobby along with reading.

Brushing the keys again, she accidently brought her finger down on one a little too hard, making the note gong through the room like a bell.

Avalina jumped, yanking her finger off the key. The note stopped.

Trembling, she listened anxiously for any noise, any sign that someone else was within hearing range.

When nothing happened after several moments, she pushed the key again, holding it this time, letting it gong out majestically in the silence before slowly fading out.

Tiptoeing to the door, she checked down both sides, making sure no one was coming, before pulling the door shut.

Walking back over, she carefully sat down on the bench and held her trembling fingers over the keys, pausing for a moment, before placing them in the correct positions and loosing a handful of dancing notes into the silent air.

They rang out clearly, echoing softly off the old walls.

_'Alright, one song,' _she decided.

_'One.'_

Avalina had no sheet music, but she didn't need any for this song. It had been the very first she had learned to play. One her mother had used to sing to her when she was very little.

It took several minutes for her to get her fingers to move properly without slipping, but after she relaxed, her fingers found the keys without even trying, and she softly began to sing along with it. It was a slow song, but powerful.

"I love the part, in Fairy Tales

That's very near the end

When all the kingdom cheers for their new queen."

Her fingers tumbled out the melody like water from a spring as she closed her eyes to concentrate.

"And all is well, and all is good,

And everyone belongs,

And happily they're ever-after-ing."

As the next verse came, Avalina raised her voice to match the swell in the music.

"But when I enter, the kingdom of dreams

And face the promise, of all I can be,"

Here, her voice lowered again as she went into the next line.

"Will they see me as,

A heroine?

Tell me, will, they let, me in?"

As her fingers slowly tapped the keys, Avalina almost mournfully sang the last line.

"Won't,

some,

one,

let me,

In?"

The soft, high note of her voice faded slipped out of existence as the music dissipated and slowly faded, leaving nothing but the echoes in the old walls.

Sighing, she looked down, contented that she had remembered at least half of the song, only to feel an icy prickle on her skin.

_'Someone's in here!'_

Raising her head quickly, she looked toward the door, only to gasp in fright and jump up from the bench as she saw the Horned King standing in the doorway.

* * *

**Nothing belongs to me except this story and my OC's. Everything else belongs to Disney and Lloyd Alexander. The song is from a truly beautiful movie I love very much, Rigoletto. The song is Let Me In.**


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

The Horned King had been aimlessly wandering through the castle with no real destination in mind, when he had heard the oddest thing. . .pausing, he had listened carefully, trying to deduce what it was.

It was far-off, faint, ringing through the castle.

_'What is that?'_

The Horned King thought a bit irritably, wondering what those Invisibles were up to now.

It would have to be fairly close by, as these walls were very thick and nigh impossible for sound to pass through, unless it was very loud.

As he ascended the steps and turned into a hall, the sound grew stronger, but he was still clueless as to what might be, and that irritated him.

It rose and lowered itself in perfect rhythm with itself, many different tones creating a layered effect. Surprisingly, the sound was not displeasing to his ears.

In fact, it sounded almost the opposite.

Approaching a closed door, he paused, realizing it was coming from inside.

There was someone doing something on the opposite side, but what, he couldn't begin to fathom.

Carefully, he eased the door open, careful not to make any noise and accidently reveal himself to the Invisible or whoever it was on the other side, hoping to catch them in the act.

The noise hit him face on, brushing against his eardrums and drifting into his head, paralyzing him in the doorframe. It held his attention completely, along with the scene in front of him.

It took several moments for him to comprehend what it was.

Avalina was sitting, her profile to him, at a large wooden box-type thing in the center of the room, pressing different little white keys that ran along the length of it, creating a different tone for every one she pressed. She was making words of some sort, but she wasn't talking to herself. She was. . .

After a long, long moment, the Horned King finally remembered.

Avalina was singing. Not talking. . .singing. Like she had been doing yesterday. And she was. . .what was she doing?

He fought to remember the word as he watched. . .it had been so long. . .

Music. That was it. She was playing music.

The Horned King had not heard a single drop of music for centuries. He had not heard the single note of an instrument, nor the tiniest syllable of song for longer than he could remember, not counting yesterday afternoon. He realized with a mild jolt that it had been so long since he had heard any, he had forgotten what music and singing actually was.

It had not crossed his mind for a very long time.

The name of the box-thing she was sitting at escaped him. Irritably he realized he didn't even remember if it had been invented recently or if it was older, but his mind was unwilling to listen to him.

Frozen in the doorframe, partly by these realizations and partly from the scene before him, he could only stand and listen as the. . .music. . .drifted against his ears. It was so foreign to him, so different from the talking he had heard all these years. . .

He stood there, unwilling to move even a finger, lest he miss the slightest thing. Perhaps he could not have moved even if he wanted to.

It created the oddest sensation, this music. . .he did not realize what it was. It felt as if a very small fire had been kindled right inside his chest. Not a destructive one, but rather, it felt. . .strange. And he did not know its name.

It stirred slightly inside him as Avalina drew out the last line slowly, before lifting her hands from the keys, signaling the. . .he fought to remember. . .song. . .was over.

For some reason he felt faintly irritated at this.

As he stood there, Avalina looked up and saw him.

She gasped and leaped from her seat in fright, staring at him in horror.

He came back to himself as she did so, forcing his limbs to work again, realizing that his joints felt frozen and stiff, as if he hadn't used them for a time.

Slowly, he approached her, watching in satisfaction as she backed up a step for every one he took towards her, having no choice but to stop when her back hit the wall.

Her terror was palpable in the air as he turned to look at the ivory keys and take in the instrument again. Its name still escaped him.

Turning his attention back to her, he could feel her shrink, although she did not move a single muscle.

He enjoyed the power he held over people. It was one of the few things he was privileged to enjoy anymore.

But the. . music. Her song.

It was a different kind of enjoyment. A kind he couldn't remember ever feeling in the entirety of his existence. It wasn't the same as the other things that brought him amusement, like choking the goblin for example. It was something. . .else. Something new. Something he couldn't quite grasp.

But he wanted to hear more of it.

He brought his hand up in her direction, smirking as she flinched, and gestured, indicating to her to come closer.

Trembling, the terrified girl did so, slowly, stopping at about ten feet from him.

He swept his hand slowly from her to the giant wooden instrument.

"Play."

Avalina's eyes widened at his command.

He inwardly smirked at her reaction, watching coldly as she walked over to the bench, watching him fearfully.

The way the instrument was positioned, and from the Horned King's point in the room, (Which he had no current motivation to move from) Avalina would be playing at the instrument with her back to him.

Something he knew she would not enjoy in the slightest.

Which meant he would only enjoy it more.

"S-sire," the girl stammered, watching him.

He narrowed his eyes at her, making her flinch back against the leg of the giant instrument contraption.

"Yes?"

"I-I don't know any more. N-not by heart, th-that is."

He stared at her, thinking for a moment. All of a sudden, an Invisible was in the room and whispered something to him so quietly Avalina didn't hear it.

The Horned King twitched his hand faintly toward the bench.

"The music will be there."

Avalina pulled the lid on the bench up, which was actually hollow, and stared in awe, before reverently picking up a songbook of some type and flipping carefully through its pages, before he saw her eyes light with recognition as she found one she knew.

Trembling, she lay the book on the little shelf above the keys, propped open to the one she had selected, and sat down like she expected him to pounce on her the second she turned her back to him.

He watched her as she carefully placed her fingers upon the keys and did not move for several seconds.

After several moments and a soft, deep breath later, she gently brought her fingers down, pressing them lightly in, before moving to others, letting the old ones rise back up to their original position.

The notes filled the air, sounding rich, yet somehow dull, not at all like the first.

After a moment, Avalina's voice came in, clear, and yet, somehow mournful.

"What nees you flow so fast?

Look how the snowy mountains

Heaven's sun doth gently waste

But my sun's heavenly eyes"

Here, her voice raised slightly, managing to sound even more mournful, and yet. . .it was as if she were also glad, somehow. She did not speed up, keeping the song's pace moderate.

"View not your weeping

That now lies sleeping

Softly, softly, now softly

Softly lies sleeping"

The Horned King could only stare at her, listening as he watched her fingers move over the keys and her wild brownish hair slide slowly up and down her back to accent her movements. The odd feeling he had felt before stirred faintly again in his chest as he stood there.

"Sleep is a reconciling

A rest that peace begets

Doth not the sun rise smiling

When fair at ev'n he sets?"

As the song progressed, he had noticed that, while still very faintly glad, her voice now carried a slight weight, as if she were trying to comfort another while still grieving herself, longing for something she could no longer have.

"Rest you then, rest, sad eyes

Melt not in weeping

While she lies sleeping

Softly, softly, now softly

Softly lies sleeping"

A few chanting notes later, the song had ended, with Avalina removing her fingers from the keys.

The song stirred lightly against his memory, bringing that feeling back from when he had heard her singing from his window. As if he was supposed to know this, to remember it, but his mind refused to cooperate with him. It didn't help that he didn't understand what the song was about in the slightest, although he faintly felt that he should.

This irritated him.

"What does it mean?"

He demanded, watching as she turned around on the bench to answer him.

"Its meaning, sir?"

Avalina looked down, trying to get her words together, before looking up at him again, trying to keep her voice level.

"W-well sir, it can mean a-anything you want it t-to. That's one of the many g-good things about m-music. I. . ."

Here she broke off, looking back down, as if she had caught herself talking too much.

The Horned King wondered what she had been about to say. He didn't like someone leaving their sentences unfinished like that. It was as if they did not view their listener important enough for them to finish.

His voice was dark as he stared at her.

"Continue."

"I. . .s-sort of always thought th-that. . .that someone a lot of pe-people cared about died, and they're trying to comfort each other at her burial because she would have w-wanted them to keep on living and enjoy l-life."

That wasn't what he expected to hear, nor was it something he felt he would ever want to hear again.

There was a long silence in the room as he looked down at the wooden instrument, then back to Avalina on the bench, thinking.

Looking back up at her face, and then her eyes, he watched a moment as she shook slightly, before speaking.

"You will play for me at noon for an hour henceforth on."

The girl looked even more frightened than before, but managed to choke out an answer.

"A-as you wish, sir."

He turned away from her to approach the window at the side of the room.

"Do not be late."

His cold tone was a plain signal that she was dismissed.

"Y-yes, sir," Avalina stammered, before all but running from the room.

Turning back around, he could hear her feet hitting the stone very fast, running to get away from him.

Her aura left the room a moment after she did, leaving him alone.

* * *

**Once again, I own nothing but this story and my OC's. The song is "Weep Ye No More Sad Fountains." The version I used is the one from Sense and Sensibility. That movie's awesome XD.**

**REVIEW! SOMEBODY REVIEW! XD**


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

The Invisibles had gathered immediately after Avalina had fled the room, talking in hushed tones. The fourth had left to go see if there was anything Avalina needed, and to make sure she could find her way back to her room. The others were waiting in another room.

"Did you SEE that?!" The second whispered excitedly.

"ITS A SIGN!" The third whispered as loud as it could.

"I saw," the first said quietly. "He just. . .stood there."

"He loved it! He may not know it himself yet, but he loved it!"

"I just wish he'd said so to Avalina."

"He may, in time," the first answered. "Personally, I think he's bored out of his mind, with nothing to do around here. This will be something for him to help pass the time."

"Bored?" The second huffed, sounding offended. "Bored?!"

"How can he be BORED with US around?" The third asked.

"Yeah, we're like. . .the carnival."

"Full of jesters."

"Yeah, we're never boring."

"Ever."

"And like the carnival, you never seem to stop, even when everyone's tired of you," the first said dryly.

"But we don't hear anyone complaining but you! Because at carnivals, where the fun never ends, its so enjoyable that people who KNOW how to have fun just keep saying to themselves, "Five more minutes," despite the fact they're dog tired!"

"Hey, speaking of which, do we have any bells and cymbals around here?"

"No, we don't," the first said irritably. "And even if we did I'd still say no to your plan."

". . . What plan?"

"Yes, what is this 'Plan' of which you speak?"

"Don't feign innocence with me, I know what you're plotting!"

A short pause, before they answered together.

"You do?"

"You do?"

"Yes, and I'm not about to have you two racing the halls in trolleys clashing drums together and throwing paper everywhere, screaming random things at the top of your lungs, leaping out from corners at people."

". . . .Well, we were actually just going to try and cheer Avalina up somehow."

". . .Oh. I see."

Another pause.

"But we like your idea a whole lot better! Yippee!"

"To the storage rooms!"

The sound of the first presence facepalming could be heard, along with a muffled oath, right as the fourth came around the corner just in time to see the other two slam a door behind them, their muffled laughter fading away on the other side of it.

"What. Have I done?" The first moaned.

"Why so dejected?" The fourth asked.

"I've created a catastrophe."

"Well, that's ok, whatever it is, it can't possibly be as bad as *any* of the things *they* do."

A moan was its answer.

"What? What did I miss?"

"You're my friend, but please, please. . .just shut up."

"That bad?"

". . . . .Yeah."

"Oh. Sorry."

Silence.

". . .I guess this would be a bad time to tell you that Creeper found the mead, huh?"

"GAAAAAHHHHH!"

* * *

Avalina ran all the way to her room, feeling the tears flowing down her face.

Her door opened for her, so she could go straight in.

Sobbing, Avalina collapsed on the bed.

_'Why? Why?'_

She thought, as a fresh sob choked itself out.

_'Why? Why did I have to want to play?_ _If I'd just walked out and held my wants at bay this wouldn't have happened. And now I'm going to be facing him every day in there! I shouldn't have even touched that piano at all, but it was so beautiful, and I haven't played in so long. . . .__For a single, blissful minute, I was actually happy away from the stable, and now. . .every moment with the very thing I love will be nothing but a curse.'_

Avalina cradled her head in her arms and wept harder.

_'I hate him! I hate him for what he's done! All those people that he's murdered without a single second thought. Why did *I* have to be the one held here? Why me? What have I ever done to deserve this? Are the Fates really that cruel? How *Can* they be this cruel? Do they enjoy this? I know *he* does!'_

Avalina felt the Invisible that had opened the door for her come nearer, before feeling an air of sympathy around her, as if the Invisible was trying to comfort her, just like mother used to do.

_'I'm supposed to be brave like a soldier, the Invisibles said, but I want to go home so bad! I want my mother! I'm not strong enough to be brave!'_

The sobbing girl let the presence settle lightly over her shoulders, almost as if it were hugging her, as she felt its own pain and sympathy.

* * *

Arran had never really appreciated the horse his sister had until it was gone, despite the fact that he could not have possibly gotten any work around the farm done without it or Avalina. Now, he was working solo.

She could keep the animal moving at a smooth, swift pace for a very long time, making the long, dusty road to the nearest village seem like a midday outing. The horse had willingly carried them double without a single complaint, but the one and only time that Arran had tried to ride by himself while Avalina walked, he had been on the ground before he had even realized what had happened, the horse standing there with an expression in his eyes that had plainly said, "Go on, I dare you to try that one more time. You'll be in the treetops next."

Avalina had wanted to give the horse a bit of a break from having to carry two people at once, but it was obvious the animal wouldn't have any of it. She had laughed about that incident for a long time, and to this day she had never let him forget it.

The horse hadn't either.

So now he was walking to the village. Which was three days away on foot.

He carried food that his mother had sent, along with the bag of money at his side. She had sent him to buy a good horse to help him work the fields and such, along with the name of a horseman Avalina recommended.

His heart ached at the thought of his beautiful little sister. Heaven knew if she was even still alive!

As he approached a place in the road where a deer trail crossed on either side, he noticed a wide breach of dog-like tracks crossing the road, breaking him from his thoughts.

Stooping down, he studied them for a moment, before he felt his blood run cold.

One of the tracks had a toe missing.

Getting up, he fearfully looked around, before heading to the village with renewed speed, fear aiding his aching muscles.

He had to warn everyone that the Mad Pack was in the area.

It was extremely rare for a human to get attacked by wolves in this part of Prydain. With plentiful prey and vast open spaces, they were in reality shy animals at this time of year, shying from humanity and everything related to it, sticking to the depths of the wilderness. It virtually never happened.

Avalina had once told Arran that a person was five times more likely to get mauled by a big cat, four times more likely to get mauled by a bear, three times more likely to drown, and twice as likely to get struck by lightning than you were to get attacked by a wolf pack in Prydain.

Except for these.

A sort of a motley pack, these wolves had collected domesticated dog blood in them somewhere, causing them to look differently than the other wolves in the area, but that was not the reason for their name.

Many years ago, a foreigner from across the sea had came to Prydain with his hounds to make a living, but soon after arriving, they all became ill and went mad. He managed to kill all but one, which escaped and was found dead later, killed by a wolf pack.

The brush farmers thought it was over, until a certain small pack of wolves appeared, with scars from a recent fight on their bodies, bearing the mark of the hound's madness in their eyes.

And that was only the beginning of the nightmare.

The disease was incurable, and everytime the Mad Pack was sighted, there was always a bigger number than the amount previously counted and nobody ever got the same number twice.

In the twenty years since the Pack had emerged, there had been more predators found mauled to death than any other time in the history of Prydain, the meat rarely touched. Big cats, bears, entire wolf packs, any forest animal they could catch, livestock and even people had been lost to the Pack. They seemed to have no fear toward anything at all, robbed of all reason by the madness that wracked them. All they lived for anymore was the blood and the kill.

Since it had been formed two decades ago, the Mad Pack had been held accountable for the deaths of at least fifteen people, one of them a small child only a year or two younger than Avalina herself.

Most of these killings, if not all, occurred at night on the forest roads, but the child killing had been right outside the village toward which Arran was currently headed, in broad daylight. The pack had then attacked the villagers, wounding many and killing five, before being driven off.

With the aftertaste of human blood in their mouths, coupled with the incurable disease, there was nothing this Pack would not attack.

Nothing.

The current leader of the pack was a very large wolf, easily recognized by his long red coat and herding dog heritage. He had been caught in a trap as a pup and had lost a toe. After getting attacked and becoming ill himself, he provided a distinctive way to track the pack now.

And judging by the amount of tracks with him, Arran could only roughly guess that the Mad Pack now had a mass of over thirty wolves.

* * *

**Can You Give Me An "R?" Can you give me an "E?" Can you give me "V-I-E-W?" All together now, what's it say? REVIEW! Whoot, Whoot! XDXD**


	50. Chapter 50

Chapter 50

The Horned King sat in the chair behind the piano bench, waiting for Avalina to come.

In the two weeks since she had begun to play for him, he had had a chair moved in so he would not have to just stand there for a whole hour. He had felt her relax the tiniest bit when he was sitting down, rather than standing.

He had had much time to think, and he realized he felt more in control of his situation, calmer and more calculated, more like his old self.

And yet, he did not.

He enjoyed the power he held over her, so that she was constantly in a state of terror, but after a while he realized it didn't quite hold the appeal it used to. The way she acted around him was slightly irritating now, although he enjoyed it to an extent. Not that she really could act differently in his presence, he mused.

After all, he had locked her in his castle, nearly killed her more than once, threatened her family, the list went on. She had every reason in the world to fear him, especially since she knew his bloody history, and if he were honest with himself, he could not blame her for that. She would have been a fool not to fear him.

But he had not been as cruel to her as he could have been. She could still be in the dungeon. He could have refused her request to see her family. He could have banned her from the stable (Where he had observed that she spent nearly all of her time, no doubt caring for her horse) or she could be dead. And yet she still treated him the same as she had before.

True, she had thanked him for allowing her to see her family, but he supposed that had been merely out of habit. She seemed like the type of girl to thank people.

Except for the hour at noon, he saw Avalina every night at mealtime. She was terribly frightened, and he could feel her shrink under his gaze every time he looked at her, although, more often than not, she would not move a single muscle.

He didn't stare at her like he had, but she was the only thing of even remote interest in the castle to him now, and his eyes were simply drawn to her, every time she was in his presence.

She watched him too. Like a mouse waiting for a snake to strike.

_'I don't deserve to have her here. I don't even deserve to lay eyes on her,'_ he thought.

_'For I am a monster of the very worst type, and I suppose, if such things existed, most people would compare her to an angel.'_

His thoughts returned to the incident with the Creeper, a fortnight ago. She had came back to beg for his life, despite the fact that she was terrified of him, and he had hurt her nearly as badly as the Horned King had himself.

The girl had backbone on her, and seemingly a forgiving nature, if she would beg for the goblin's life like she had. The Horned King pondered silently on this, before brushing it away.

_'If I possessed any hope, I might hope that she could eventually forgive me, as well,' he thought. 'But this is a foolish dream. I have no hope, and I deserve no forgiveness for anything I have done.'_

But neither had the goblin.

_'Its not even close to the same thing,'_ he thought, baring his fangs slightly, angry at himself for even comparing the goblin with himself.

_'If the goblin had a reputation like mine, she would be just as terrified of him, and unwilling to forgive. And, even without my reputation, after the way I've treated her. . .were I in her place I probably would not forgive either. If I had thought my actions out a little more carefully when she first arrived, things might have played out differently. But I do not blame the girl. Nobody could ever forgive me for all I have done.'_

He growled softly to himself in frustration.

_'Why did those Fates bring me back in the first place? They knew I could not ever hope to accomplish what they required of me. I must find out how they brought me back, and why. Perhaps the secret to staying here lies there.'_

Realizing he was getting himself worked up, he calmed.

He doubted Avalina had noticed, but when he was relaxed, her fear would lessen very slightly, although it would spike again if he so much as twitched.

He had kept himself calm the last few days, and he had noticed a faint difference in her playing. It was better, a little stronger. He enjoyed it more as well.

Every time she played or opened her mouth to sing, that feeling in his chest that he had felt the first day would return to burn softly. He still did not realize what it was, but it stirred him and he realized it was not an unpleasant feeling.

Since she had returned, he had not approached any nearer than ten feet from her. The aura of Death he carried with him would overwhelm her at such close proximity, so he had stayed his distance.

The Invisibles had informed him only yesterday that he had 15 moons left before his deadline, something that had him in a silent rage of despair, reminding him again just what awaited him when his time was up.

He was jolted from his agitated thoughts as the door softly came open.

* * *

Avalina straightened her shoulders with as much strength as she could muster as she walked toward the music room, wishing with all her might she could be somewhere else.

She had been playing for an hour everyday for the Horned King for nearly a fortnight, and it was still not getting any easier.

He would stand about ten feet behind her, staring a hole right through her, watching every little move she made.

It made her so nervous she could barely play properly, and it took all of her willpower to keep her voice from constantly breaking in terror.

She wasn't sure how much more of this she could take.

She had been so nervous last night that when she had went back to her room after eating supper with the Horned King in the dining hall, she had promptly brought up her food, leading to the Invisibles fussing over her for nearly an hour before she felt enough like herself to quietly ask them to leave so she could go to sleep.

Mitternacht was suffering too. He rejoiced every time he saw her, but judging by the way he watched her like a hawk and sniffed her over every time with more care than he had ever done at home, it was obvious he was nervous.

She had started taking him out into the courtyard and carefully lunging him over the cobblestone, as the drawbridge had been kept tightly closed and there was nowhere to take him to run. This frustrated him immensely, even more so than her, as she had always granted him plenty of room to be himself, and being locked up brought back unpleasant memories the horse didn't need to be reminiscing on.

Mitternacht understood something was very wrong, but as to what, he had not a clue, and it worried him even more.

He showed no signs of the madness the Horned King had mentioned, but Avalina had already brokenheartedly resigned herself to the fact that if Mitternacht began to show the signs of it she would have to put him out of his misery herself. She loved him so much, there was no way she would let him die a slow, painful death.

When she had taken him about the courtyard, she had stayed away from the other stable on the other end like the Horned King had ordered, but she couldn't help being curious about it.

Avalina was so homesick her stomach hurt. She tried not to think about it, as it only worsened her morale. Trying to be positive, she had told herself that she could have been in the dungeon instead, but it was so hard to think positively here! So very hard. . .

In truth, the entire place here was a prison. A giant, stone prison with only one prisoner. Two if you counted Mitternacht.

Avalina was actually very surprised that the Horned King had released her from the dungeon and let her walk about as she pleased. She had expected vastly different treatment from a monster like him.

She had seen the goblin Creeper once more since that first night, and it had been much the same as last time.

Shivering, she pushed open the music room door, seeing the Horned King sitting in a throne-like chair about ten feet behind the piano bench, waiting.

He turned his head as she entered, and those cold, empty eyes seemed to look right through her, right to her soul.

She couldn't help flinching when he did that.

After bowing from the waist, she shakily went over to the piano and sat down.

His aura of Death settled over her faintly, not enough for a side effect, (She wasn't THAT close) but enough that she closed her eyes as it drifted over her skin, in a futile attempt to block it out.

Taking a deep breath to try and calm her nerves, (With no success) she headed into a song, watching her fingers carefully. Her nerves grew tighter as she willed her fingers not to slip or her voice to crack.

It was the same every day.

Almost immediately after she finished, her stomach knotted as she heard the Horned King speak.

He rarely spoke to her when she played.

"Do something new."

She flinched. She had been expecting this for quite a long time now. She hadn't known many songs to begin with, and she had used them all up within three days of this. Honestly, she was a little surprised he hadn't said something about it already. He sounded a bit irritated now.

Turning around so that she faced him, she answered him, barely above a whisper.

"I can't."

The Horned King stared at her hard, and she tried to explain herself.

"I d-don't know any more."

"Then. . .learn something new."

Avalina was almost ready to cry but she held it in.

"I c-can't."

"Explain."

His voice had taken a darker edge than usual. The hair on Avalina's neck stood up.

She hadn't noticed til now, but the last few days he had been rather. . .well, she didn't know how to say it, but he had been different. This behavior he was exhibiting now was how he had been the day he had thrown her in the dungeon.

"I-I. . "

She fought with how to answer without sounding like a whining brat, but there was no way.

A soft growl from the Horned King indicated she had better think fast.

"I-I can't learn new things when I-I'm n-nervous!"

Avalina choked out, trying not to cry.

She stared at him in terror, The Horned King staring back blankly.

After a silence, he answered.

"Then. . .don't be nervous."

His voice had an odd tone to it. Almost as if he were. . .asking, rather than demanding.

But that was silly. His voice stayed the same all the time, in a cold, dead, monotone.

"I c-can't help it!"

She said softly, looking down.

"Why not?"

". . .Um. . ."

Avalina fought for an answer, one that wouldn't get her killed, but she had none.

The Horned King was losing his patience, she could tell by the way he was gripping the arms of the chair tighter, and it scared her even more.

"Answer me."

It was hardly more than a soft growl from him, but it compounded her fright tenfold.

"I. . .I. . ."

This was going nowhere. She wished she hadn't said anything, but she couldn't take the words back now.

She gasped in fright as he rose from his seat, causing her to leap from the bench as well.

_'Well, now you've done it! He's angry now!'_ She thought.

Tears of fright burned her eyes and she finally burst out the very last thing she should have said.

"Because I'm locked in a castle with a monster!"

Avalina slapped her hand to her mouth in horror, not able to believe what she had just spoke.

The Horned King stood there like a stone, stockstill.

Avalina's heart was nearly ready to break out of her chest, it was beating so hard and fast.

The Horned King stared at her with those cold eyes, and she saw a tiny dot of red in them, a sign that she had truly ticked him off.

The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Avalina gasped when he took a dark step toward her.

The ten feet of distance between them was the only thing preventing her from being completely overwhelmed by the aura of Death and Decay he carried with him, and when he began to close, it filled her lungs and made her cough.

"Stay away!" She cried in a panic, backing against the piano as far she could, her eyes never leaving him.

"I let you live, and roam the castle at will," he snarled out softly as he advanced, "And THAT is the thanks I receive!"

"I'm sorry!" She sobbed as he got even closer, her terror making it nearly impossible to breathe. "Stay away!"

"Silence!"

Everything else happened in less than a second.

The Horned King's eyes suddenly turned blood red, and he lunged at her with all the speed of an uncoiling viper, snarling like the monster he was.

Avalina screamed in terror and fell back against the piano, and as her hands felt frantically for a means to defend herself, her right came up against the glass of water sitting atop the piano that an Invisible had brought her.

As he struck his hand out to grab her, she threw the glass at him with all her might as she stared in horror into his blazing eyes.

Her aim could not have been better. The entire amount of water hit him straight in the face and eyes right as he swiped at her.

A screaming roar unlike anything Avalina had ever heard in her life erupted from the monster towering right over her as he screamed in pure agony.

Screaming herself, Avalina was thrown to the floor, as, now blinded, his aim was thrown off and he hit her hard across the back.

She cried out in pain at the impact.

The sizzle of burning flesh could plainly be heard, along with the tinkle of shattering glass on the cobbled floor.

Leaping to her feet, she scrambled clumsily away, gasping and choking as she fought to get out of his aura. As it snapped loose from her as she got farther away, she stumbled against the door, the wood being the only thing holding her up, as she gripped her chest, trying to breathe again.

Casting a glance at the Horned king, she saw him holding his face in his hands as he snarled in agony, nearly bent double by its intensity, still near the piano.

Not sparing a single second, Avalina fled from the room as fast as she could, knowing now that he would kill her if he ever got near her again.

Tears poured like a fountain as she ran to the stable, noticing that the drawbridge was down for some reason.

Thanking the gods, she burst into the stable, bridled Mitternacht and galloped him out as fast he could go.

_'I have to get out of here!'_

* * *

The Horned King had not even seen her throw it. Yet he knew instantly what it was the moment it hit him.

Water. His only weakness.

And it burned with the intensity of a thousand suns.

Screaming in pain, he had covered his face with his hands in a habitual gesture, trying to block out some of the pain, although he knew it would not help in the slightest.

It was that damnable Pig-Keeper all over again.

He roared in pain again as the liquid seared his flesh and worked deep into his eyes.

The pain was so intense he couldn't remember his name.

The flashbacks started, eliciting another screaming snarl as he sank to his knees on the floor from the weight of his agony.

* * *

**Everybody put your hands together for my 50th Chapter Anniversary! Whoot-Whoot! XD How in the World did I come this far? I mean, it doesn't seem like that much, but then I look at the list of chapters and I'm just like, ". . .Whoa, man, dat's awesome." O_O And the best part is, this story's not even over yet! *Parties* Ya'll better fasten your seatbelts, its gonna be a ride you'll not soon forget! (I hope) XD**


	51. Chapter 51

Chapter 51

Avalina scarcely noticed when they left the wasteland behind and hit the forest.

Mitternacht, excited to be out for the first time in two weeks, needed no urging, but the fear emanating from his rider only spurred him on.

Avalina was in tears as she gripped Mitternacht's mane tightly, moving her body with the horse's. She had neglected to saddle him or grab her cloak before leaving, but she had learned to ride bareback long before she had a saddle, and it was as natural to her as breathing.

Her sobs were all but lost in the thrumming of the horse's hooves.

_'Oh, gods, what have I done?'_ She sobbed.

_'What have I done? I am so stupid! I should have not said anything! Why? Why did I have to do that?'_

She gripped her horse tighter.

_'He's going to kill me now. I have no doubt of that. He promised me he would if I left his grounds, which I have just done. But he was so angry. . .he would have killed me if I had stayed too.'_

Avalina choked out another sob as she gently asked her horse to slow down, which he steadily did, until he was walking, with Avalina leaning on his neck.

_'What am I going to do? I can't go back. He'll kill me.'_

The girl shuddered violently at the image of those blood red eyes and the rage they held, gripping Mitternacht tighter for comfort.

_'I can't go back. But what am I going to do? I can't go home. Home! Heaven knows what he'll do to my family now!'_

Suddenly, the horse stopped dead in his tracks, jolting Avalina's thoughts and causing her to tearfully sit up, wiping her eyes.

_'I have no idea where I am,'_ she thought painfully.

Mitternacht threw his head up, snorting through his nostrils loudly and stamping once, before whickering softly in alarm and shying suddenly.

Avalina gripped his mane and pulled on his reins to keep him under control, realizing something was very wrong as he tried to rear, neighing a warning.

"Boy, what's wrong?"

Her first fleeting thought was that the Horned King was teleporting here and Mitternacht had sensed it before he could do so, but as she turned her horse in a circle she realized the bushes were moving.

Soft growling filled her ears as canine heads poked out from behind the greenery, and Avalina took them all in at a single sweeping glance as her horse shied in a panic.

From every side, wolves had appeared from the undergrowth, slipping out like wraiths of the dark, their white teeth glowing brightly in the dimness of the forest.

Mitternacht froze in terror for a moment and she was able to take them all in, her heart thumping a swift tattoo of fear in her chest. . .there were so many! Not full-blooded wolf either. And they had them surrounded.

_'What sort of wolves attack a human in broad daylight at this time of year?'_ Avalina thought, trying not to panic.

Avalina's sinking feeling was followed by the largest wolf of them all, obviously the alpha by the way he acted, rising deliberately from the undergrowth to her horse's right, in perfect view.

Avalina gasped as she took him in, her eyes growing wide in horror.

The ragged, unkempt pelt, the bones protruding from every inch of his body, the sheer muscle underneath that wiry coat, the dripping fangs, and that glazed look in his savage yellow eyes.

The red half-breed.

And then it all clicked.

_'The Mad Pack!'_

Avalina turned Mitternacht's head around to the only place they hadn't completely surrounded her in and kicked his sides.

"Run!" She screamed.

Mitternacht bolted up in a half rear, half plunge as he was off and running before her heels even touched his sides.

The horse screamed in fright as he hammered down the trail, the wolves baying and snarling right behind them, filling the forest with their cries.

Fear came off them both in waves as Mitternacht ran for all he was worth. This only fueled the wolves' energy.

_'Run, run, run!'_ Avalina thought frantically, guiding him between the trees at breakneck speed.

A wolf came up beside them on their left and snapped at Mitternacht's legs, trying to turn him towards the rest of the pack.

They burst into an open space and Avalina screamed in terror, pulling back on Mitternacht's reins as hard as she dared, the horse skidding violently.

They were teetering over the edge of a massive cliff face that plunged straight down sharply with no warning, the river so far below them it looked like a tiny blue ribbon.

A fresh pump of terror and adrenaline flooded Avalina's system as Mitternacht skidded wildly to a stop, kicking stones and pebbles off the cliff, practically sitting down as he tried to back up, his front hooves nearly going off the edge completely, Avalina almost falling off.

He wrenched himself up, kicking off violently to his right, just in time to avoid a wolf that leaped straight at him.

The crazed animal snarled as it leaped right over Mitternacht's hindquarters, missing Avalina's head by mere inches.

Avalina saw the wolf go right over the edge of the abyss below, another going after it when it failed to pull up in time.

Their death howls echoed off the cliff face as they plunged into oblivion, ringing in Avalina's ears and fading as her horse sprinted to his right, just as the rest of the pack burst out of the trees and gave chase, snarling.

Avalina turned Mitternacht back into the forest again, hoping to lose the wolves in the thick trees instead of galloping along the edge of the rock face.

From above, under the lush crowns of the forest's spring leaves, a massive black streak with a small rider on its back shot through the dappled sunlight that filtered through the green roof, pursued by dozens of sprinting wolves, baying for blood.

Avalina gripped his sides with her legs for all she was worth, holding his mane so tightly her knuckles were white, her breath coming in sharp bursts of terror as she saw the wolves closing in from the sides, death in their eyes.

_'Run, Mitternacht, run!'_

* * *

After what felt like a complete eternity, the Horned King's flashbacks and severe physical pain had more or less subsided, and he had gotten up with extreme effort, leaning on the piano bench for support, then the piano, his eyes still glowing blood red in fury.

_'I'll kill her,'_ he thought, standing.

_'I'll kill her for this. She doesn't know the meaning of agony yet, but she will feel it when I get my hands on her. She will be begging for death before I get through.'_

Snarling, he painfully straightened up to his full height, taking care not to step on any puddles or broken glass.

_'That girl is going to pay.'_

Walking into the hall more quickly than usual, he bared his fangs, flinching when the movement caused the raw skin on his face to send arcs of pain down his body.

"Where IS she?" He growled at the Invisible there by the door.

"It. . .seems she has fled the castle, Sire," the Invisible answered hesitantly. "She was terrified."

"She. . .WHAT?"

The Horned King roared in fury. He had lied to innumerable people to get what he wanted, but he detested being lied to himself.

_'She gave me her word she would stay!'_

"Where is she? I'll bring her back myself!"

"As. . .as you know, Sire, we cannot help you harm anyone. . ."

The door was thrown open violently as another Invisible burst in, cutting the other off.

"Sire! Wolves!"

Panic laced every word it said.

The Horned King snarled, his temper nonexistent after the chain of events that had taken place, but the Invisible beat him to it by saying something that caused the lich's eyes to widen, before narrowing to red slits.

"They're after Avalina!"

* * *

The wolves were everywhere. Behind them. To the right and left of them. They would eventually be in front of them if Mitternacht couldn't outdistance them.

They came up on both sides, snapping madly at Mitternacht's legs, trying to get a bite in, but Mitternacht barely stayed out of reach, partially to his own instincts and the rest to Avalina's reining.

Avalina looked up ahead just in time to see a wide gulley looming up in front of them.

With nowhere else to go, no way to stop and an entire pack of wolves behind them, Avalina checked her horse's strides and readied him for the jump, feeling the horse's heart punching her legs through his ribcage, matching her own terrified heartbeat.

_'Help me, help me!'_

Mitternacht sailed right over the gulley in a perfect pose, his mane and tail flying wildly as Avalina clung to him.

He landed with a thump, one of his back legs slipping slightly on the edge of the gulley, nearly making him fall completely, but like a warhorse he recovered and he was gone again as the wolves came swarming back.

_'Run, Mitternacht! Faster!'_ Avalina cried silently.

_'Fates, protect us! Please! Send help!'_

Seeing a wolf come right up beside them and prepare itself to leap, Avalina steered Mitternacht in the wolf's direction, a plan forming.

The wolf moved away to avoid getting trampled under the massive feet, concentrating so hard on its prey that it forgot to watch where it was going.

Avalina drove Mitternacht against the wolf, smashing the animal headfirst between Mitternacht and into a massive tree, its howl cut off as its skull was crushed from the impact.

Avalina had no time to celebrate as a wolf hurdled out of the trees to her fore left and leaped straight at her head.

She screamed and ducked just in time, hearing its teeth snap together inches from her spine.

Avalina's terror compounded as she leaned close to Mitternacht's neck, silently urging him on, praying desperately to anyone that would listen.

_'Please, somebody, help me!'_

Like everyone else in this area, Avalina's knowledge of the terrible reputation of the Mad Pack preceded them. They were wolves like no other. They would openly attack anyone and anything that moved. They had attacked an entire village once, and they had been attacking and killing people since the pack had been formed. And the pure truth of it was that there had not been a single survivor in the history of the attacks and killings.

Not one.

Mitternacht was galloping all out, no holds barred on his speed.

Avalina knew he has not been conditioned properly for nearly three weeks, with the Horned King never letting them out of the courtyard, and it was showing. The exhausted animal's ribs were heaving and his breath came like a bellows, fighting to stay ahead of the pack that tailed them.

A wave of wolves came out from the trees ahead of her, blocking the trail.

Not even hesitating, Avalina turned Mitternacht quickly to the left, off the trail before the wolves were on top of them.

Now, off the trail and deep in the undergrowth where the trees were thickest, complete with low-hanging branches, she watched what was coming up in front of her, calculating.

They were going at breakneck speed.

A limb came out of nowhere, and Avalina leaned quickly to the left to avoid the limb and the tree on her right, Mitternacht going left with her, listening to her weight shifts as he had been taught.

Then it was a limb on the right. Gripping Mitternacht's mane, she hooked her right leg over Mitternacht's back and held his mane like a vice as he swept right under it, pulling herself up onto his back again with a scream, right as a wolf's jaws snapped shut where her head would have been a mere moment ago.

The fallen tree loomed out of the dimness like a massive gate, preventing anything from passing. Its dead, jagged branches stood up like spears, ready to gut open anything that would dare try and cross its back, which lay nearly five feet off the ground, the wooden lances raising it another couple of feet, give or take.

Seven feet total.

There was no time to stop, even if they could. Any other horse would have just given up right then and balked.

But Mitternacht wasn't just any horse, and its amazing what fear for your life can do to you, whether you be man or beast.

Avalina screamed a silent prayer as Mitternacht gave another burst of speed and leaped high into the air, his head snaking out as his forelegs curled up elegantly underneath his belly, Avalina gripping him tightly.

_'Fates, protect us, I beg of you!'_

For a single, elevating moment, they were flying. Mitternacht had leaped high enough where the spears did not gash him open, and as they sailed over the log and began to descend on the other side, Avalina leaned back just enough to keep Mitternacht from losing his balance and falling.

The landing was rough. Mitternacht's hooves sank three inches into the soft peat soil on the other side, giving to his weight.

The animal lurched as the dirt sucked loosely at his feet and nearly fell, but Avalina kept his head up and herself level, enabling him to keep going.

Avalina looked behind her to see at least two wolves get impaled by the deadly spikes. Even with the constant baying and Mitternacht's hoofbeats, she heard the violent crunch of the wood driving itself through the predator's bodies, making her cringe sharply.

Her horse was so tired. . .Avalina could feel his exhaustion with every stride he took, and she couldn't see his eyes, but she imagined they were rolling in terror.

His exhaustion terrified her.

_'Hang on, boy, hang on!'_

She guided him into a narrow deer trail where he would be able to run better, dodging a few trees and throwing the wolves off a bit in the process.

She veered Mitternacht around a massive tree, and this was what saved her life, as a massive grey blur shot out of nowhere from her right, heading straight for her, intending to knock her off her horse.

She leaned forward with a sharp gasp of terror, but she wasn't quick enough this time.

The wolf's front feet slashed hard across her back, his front jaws snapping loudly by her ear as he hung suspended in midair for the briefest of moments, before sailing off to the side and crashing to the ground with a snarl.

Avalina, leaning over Mitternacht's neck, threw back her head and screamed in agony as something that felt like fire coursed down her spine, weakening her grip on her horse.

The wolves, now that one of them had drawn blood, were whipped into a savage frenzy, as their baying snarls heightened in volume and frequency, their bloodlust renewed with a ferocious intensity.

Not long now! The howls of the wolves reassured each other. Almost over!

Sobbing in terror and desperation, Avalina barely managed to stay on board in her haze of pain as she felt her horse's exhausted heaving. . .

_'I don't want to die! To anyone that's listening, please, help me! I beg of you, PLEASE!'_

She veered her horse sharply to the right around a massive, massive tree, sending the wolves on the trail behind her skidding into the undergrowth, surprised by this action.

Clearing another log, Avalina did not see the massive limb until it was too late.

Her horse could not turn in time, his shoulder and chest catching it full force about eight feet from the trunk, where even there, it was a good nine or ten inches thick.

Everything after that happened in slow-motion.

Mitternacht screaming in pain and terror as the limb snapped under the massive impact of his body hitting it, Avalina screaming as she was thrown over her horse's head, her fingers getting ripped from his mane in the process. . .the limb snapping free from the trunk of the tree to fall in their direction, the end coming up as Mitternacht's weight pulled the other side down. . .Avalina did a heels over head flip in midair as the limb came free, the horse passing underneath her. . .Mitternacht's legs getting caught up in the other end of the limb. . .Mitternacht falling. . .falling. . .landing on his side on the forest floor, throwing up leaves and dust, entangled in the massive limb's twisting branches. . .Avalina seeing nothing but the treetops. . .

_'Its over, its over!'_

**Crash!**

The impact of her body hitting the ground drove the wind from her lungs, stunning her. Numbing her. Paralyzing her.

The terrible weight of the massive limb falling on top of her snapped her out of it.

Screaming in agony, she tried to move, only to find that she couldn't, save her left arm.

The massive limb lay across her right arm and shoulder, pinning her right hip and both legs to the ground, blocking her view of Mitternacht as well, who was on the other side somewhere.

_'Oh gods, no!'_

Avalina screamed inside her head. _'No! I don't want to die! Not like this!'_

She had always felt terrible grief for the families that lost loved ones to the Pack, but never once had she pondered that it might happen to her and her own family one day as well.

Desperately, she strained against the wood, trying to push it off her, but even if she had been able to use both arms, she may as well have tried to move a mountain.

_'No! No!'_

"Mitternacht!" She cried as the baying of the wolves filled her ears, along with the horse's screams.

"NOOO! MITTERNACHT!"

A wolf slunk up to her, its savage yellow eyes glazed, every hair prickling on its back, every tooth bared.

Avalina's eyes widened as she gasped in in horror, watching it crouch down, readying itself, its snarl re-vibrating inside her head.

_'Somebody, HELP ME! ANYONE!'_

Avalina was filled with a desperation she had never known in her life, tears filling her eyes. This was not an adventure in a book. She was going to die. She knew it as surely as the back of her hand.

Nobody would ever know what had happened to her, not her friends, not her family. . .not even the Horned King would know anything. For the slightest of moments, Avalina wondered if he would miss her when she didn't come back.

The Mad Pack had been claiming people's lives for years.

And she was next.

Avalina's scream died in her throat as she saw the massive beast leap into the air and descend towards her, aiming for her face.

Avalina wanted to close her eyes, to look away from her imminent death, but she was completely frozen.

Her last thought before her eyes finally flickered shut was not what she wished she would die thinking about.

_'No hero came for me.'_

Right as her eyes blinked shut, she saw something of a reddish-greenish color snake into her vision from her right, felt a rush of wind against her face, heard the wolf's teeth snap shut an inch from her throat, and a yelping howl of pain.

Blinking open her tear-filled eyes again, she saw the wolf fly backwards to hit the forest floor with a heavy thump and a muffled crunch. It did not get up again.

The shadow that had fallen across her when the wolf had sprang did not leave when the wolf did, and, expecting another one, she turned her head weakly to her right. . .well, as much to the right as she could with the massive limb on her shoulder. . .and looked straight up at the towering, antlered silhouette of the Horned King himself.

Avalina could not help the gasp that escaped her lips as he turned his attention from the wolf he had just struck down back to her, his blazing eyes freezing the blood in her veins and turning her body to ice.

Her eyes widened in shock as she took him in, and as her heart thudded double time in terror, she realized what had just happened a moment ago as his deathly aura swept over her body, filling her lungs with every breath she took.

_'He just saved my life.'_

Kneeling beside her on the ground, he inspected the log, looking at it end from end, and for the fleetest of moments, flaming red eyes met frightened, wondering green ones.

A wolf sprang at them, but the Horned King was quicker, knocking it away as easily as he might throw the creeper across a room.

Snarling softly to himself, he slid his hands under the log, one on each side, his claws digging into the old bark, and with a growl, slowly stood up with it in his grip, freeing her from its massive weight.

Groaning softly in relief, Avalina slowly rolled onto her right side, gripping her shoulder as pains shot down it. Her joints all felt frozen stiff, and she was having trouble moving any of them.

Trying not to cry out in pain, she looked up to see the Horned King swing the massive log over her head like a club before loosing it, taking out six springing wolves at once in midair and throwing them all to the ground, snarling and yelping.

Avalina stared in shock as he stepped deliberately away from her and met the next wave of wolves, claws out and fangs bared, preventing the pack from getting any closer to where she lay.

Her body was becoming a little more responsive now, and grudgingly obeyed her as she slowly sat up, staring in terror at the battle taking place right in front of her.

Not paying any attention to her anymore, the wolves' key interest seemed to be the Horned King, whom they leapt at in a bloodthirsty fury.

Avalina had no idea he could move this fast. She had always seen him move slowly, deliberately, without a single bit of hurry, except when he struck at you. Lulled by his slower movements, you would never see the hit coming until it was too late.

The Horned King fought like a demon amongst the pack as he slashed, swiped and struck anything within range, his hits always counting. Not one move he made was wasted in any way.

A scream to her right made her whip her head around, forcing her limbs to obey her, fresh fear flooding her system.

_'Mitternacht!'_

Struggling to her feet, she took one step and fell again on her right shoulder, giving a small whimper as it sent fiery fingers of pain across her back and sides.

Her movement attracted attention, and a wolf sprang at her as she got up again, but before it could touch her the Horned King had yanked it away from her out of midair and thrown it violently against a tree.

Her muscles protesting, she found the biggest limb she could weld and ran to her horse's aid.

His reins had somehow gotten knotted up in a twisting mass of tree branches, tying him to the spot, leaving him an easy choice for the pack.

He seemed to be holding his own, kicking away anything that came within reach of his powerful legs, and Avalina made sure he saw her before she dared come any closer.

A wolf managed to get past his legs somehow and leap onto Mitternacht's back, but a timely swing from Avalina's club threw it off.

It landed facing away from them, and any other wolf would have turned back to finish what it started, but this one did not. Rather, as it had landed facing in the Horned King's direction, it sprinted across the thirty feet of ground to attack him instead.

Her relief that it had not turned back toward her was shortlived as another one sprang at she and Mitternacht. Mitternacht kicked it away, breaking several of its ribs with his hammer blows.

The wolf howled and sprang again, but Avalina struck the weakened animal across the shoulder, throwing it right under the horse's hooves, where it was promptly stomped to death.

Avalina cried out from the impact of hitting the wolf and dropped her club, pain shooting through her body.

Looking over in the Horned King's direction as she gripped her shoulder, her eyes widened as she found she could not see him. All she could see was a writhing mass of wiry fur and the snarling and howling of the Pack.

She watched desperately, unable to do anything, as they swarmed him completely.

As she watched, suddenly she saw him rise up, snarling in fury, as he broke free from the mass, throwing the wolves in every direction.

For a single, fleeting moment, he looked her way, and she met his gaze, temporarily frozen in his blazing red eyes, before a swarm of movement behind him caught her eye.

"LOOK OUT!" She screamed, pointing in panic.

The few wolves that weren't already dead all sprang at him at once, but he was ready for them, either by her warning or his own instincts.

Striking, slashing and swinging, they were all on the ground in a matter of mere seconds.

As the last one fell, the red wolf rose up from behind and struck the Horned King hard.

Avalina didn't even have time to scream a warning.

The Horned King snarled in pain and grabbed the wolf off his back, pulling him out in front of him.

For a split second the animal hung in his grip, snarling and snapping, before the Horned King struck forward with his free hand and broke the wolf's neck.

As the lifeless body hit the ground, the Horned King and Avalina stared at each other for a moment.

He looked terrible. More so than how he normally did.

His robe was ripped to pieces, and the blood of the wolves covered him, along with an odd, dark colored substance. Gashes covered his arms, and that was the only part she could see from here.

He stood there a moment, swaying, before pitching heavily to the ground and lying there, motionless.

* * *

**Even without the disclaimers, this is easily the longest chapter I've written yet.**

**So, I actually have a music piece to go with this chapter XD. Go to Youtube and look up "The Lion King: To Die For Stampede." Make sure it says stampede and not instrumental in the title;) I used the movie soundtrack part by Hans Zimmer. It totally fits this scene to a T XD I literally have the whole chapter mapped out to the second on the soundtrack XD.**

**Also, a tremendous shout-out and wonderful Thank-You to my reviewer on here, FaeryDame. She made me a video trailer for this fanfiction! XD I'm so happy and excited and honored and WHOO! Especially since I got to pick the song she used in it XD. Go to Youtube and type in "Horned King and Avalina" and the video should be right at the tippety-top! I'm so HAPPEH! :D**

**Ok, soooo ya'll know the drill. But I'll do it a funny accent this time to make it more entertaining XD.**

***Clears throat***

**Meeee-saaaah! No-No own No-No but me-sah's characters and dah plot line! Isney-Day and Dyllo Ander-Xela-Ay own all else! LOL **


	52. Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Avalina stared in shock and fear as the Horned King fell, watching with huge eyes.

_'What are you waiting for? Run! Run, you idiot, while he's down!'_

The rational side of her mind shouted at her.

_'Run home! You won't have to worry about him hurting you or anyone else anymore! He's finished!'_

Listening to it, she turned back to her mount, grabbing Mitternacht's reins and a fistful of mane, placing a hand on his withers, preparing to swing up, but her heart whispered softly at her to wait.

_'Stop!' _It whispered. _'This is wrong.'_

Avalina stared at Mitternacht's back in front of her, her emotions conflicted.

_'You can't do this to him.'_

_'Oh yes you can!' _Her rational side shouted. '_After everything he's done to you, to Prydain, to everybody. All those people he killed. . .'_

Avalina flinched at that thought.

_'But yet,' _her heart whispered softly. _'He saved you.'_

Avalina glanced over at his form, lying prone on the ground, motionless.

_'He saved me. But why?'_

Avalina glanced at Mitternacht's back, looking so inviting, so promising. . .then back at the Horned King, and felt her heart ache.

_'I can't leave him here. I can't.'_

_'Him saving you does NOT justify all those people he's slaughtered down through the years!'_

Avalina warred with her own emotions, logic and reasoning on one side, morality and her own tender heart on the other. She lay her forehead against Mitternact's shoulder as she leaned on him, trying to stay up herself, shaking uncontrollably as the adrenaline left her system.

She stood there, trembling, as her screaming side of rationality inside her head warred against the still, soft voice in her chest.

_'Do you seriously think he'll be grateful for you helping him?'_

_'He helped me. If he hadn't intervened I would be dead right now, and Mitternacht would be as well. The least I can do is return the favor.'_

_'When he wakes up, you are going to pay! You disobeyed his order, broke your promise, hurt him, what do you think he's going to do?'_

_'My mother always told me to listen to my heart. I think it's telling me to help him.'_

_'You're still in shock, you're delusional. What you're contemplating is suicide. He'll kill you when he wakes up, don't you know that?'_

_'But if he was, why would he go to the trouble of saving me now, nearly getting himself killed in the process?'_

_'Its impossible to know how that madman thinks. He's not even a man! You said so yourself, he's a monster! A *heartless* monster!'_

_'But. . .he saved my life.'_

_'Just leave him and quit making it hard for yourself. Forget everything that's happened and go home. You know you want to.'_

Avalina felt the tears build as she thought of her family, but she choked them down.

_'I just can't leave him here to die.'_

_'Grow a backbone! Are you seriously going to help this, this *murderer,* this *monster?* Do you KNOW what he is?'_

_'If I go home, I would never be able to forget that I willingly allowed somebody to die.'_

Avalina's chest clinched painfully at the thought.

_'And if I left him here, I would be no better than he is. I would be just as guilty of murder as he.'_

_'Stupid, stupid girl! Just get on the horse and ride off. That's all you have to do! He deserves everything he's got coming!'_

Looping her horse's reins over a branch, ignoring the rational side of her brain, she carefully approached him, watching for any sign of movement, ready to leap away if he so much as twitched. Her terror grew the closer she got to his prone form.

He lay face down on the forest floor, facing away from her, covered in a red substance that was not his own.

The bodies of every single wolf the Mad Pack had been compromised of lay lifeless all around. Not one had survived. Every foot of ground was awash with blood. So much blood. . .Avalina fought to keep from gagging as she walked through it, her boots sinking slightly into the gory mess.

Cautiously, she came slowly closer, kneeling at his side, ready to leap away at any second.

She stiffened and willed herself not to get sick as his aura twisted around her body again.

Reaching over, she pulled back a moment, before touching his shoulder hesitantly, cringing at actually touching him, even if it was just his robe.

"Sir?" She asked softly, hardly above a whisper.

"Sir?"

Looking over him, she took his condition in.

His clothing shredded beyond recognition, hardly more than rags now, they barely clung to him, revealing the horrors underneath.

Lacerations, gashes and puncture wounds covered his arms and nearly all of what she could see underneath his shredded robe. A thick, blackish substance oozed out of the injuries, slipping over the edges of the wounds to run down his body to the ground, contrasting sharply with his algae-like skin tone.

Avalina retched and fought to keep from bringing up her breakfast, closing her eyes tight, covering her mouth with the hand she had not touched him with.

After a few moments, she regained control of herself, more or less, and, bracing herself, carefully pushed him over onto his back and ripped the few strands of fabric that still held his right sleeve on off, hearing them pop.

One good thing the wolves had done was rip his robe into strips already, as she had no knife with her and the fabric was very strong and hard to tear.

After she had clumsily bandaged him as well as she could, (It looked like a disaster) she slowly got up, cringing at the wolves' blood and that odd black substance on her hands and clothes, she went over to lead Mitternacht over to where he lay.

Mitternacht blew loudly and snorted at her as she came near, sniffing her carefully.

"Its alright, boy," she told him softly. "But I have a job for you you're not going to like."

Untying him, she began to lead him slowly over to where the Horned King lay.

Mitternacht froze and huffed loudly, arching his neck and twitching his ears forward, taking in the thing on the ground with utmost caution.

Avalina let him take his time, making sure he had plenty of slack on his line in case he bolted.

The smell of Death and Decay covered that thing, and Mitternacht wanted nothing to do with it. Avalina didn't blame him in the slightest.

After much coaxing, reassuring and firm leadership, she managed to get him within six feet of the Horned King, right as he finally shied backwards and bolted in the opposite direction.

Avalina had been half expecting this, but in her injured state she couldn't move fast enough, and the yank Mitternacht gave her good arm traveled all through her body and made her cry out in pain as he jerked her forward, causing her to fall in the bloodsoaked leaves.

Nearly screaming in pain, she stayed in that position for some time, until a cautious whinny caused her to look up.

Mitternacht stood at the edge of the clearing, his ears flicked towards her, carefully moving in her direction, obviously ashamed of himself for hurting her.

Anyone that said horses couldn't feel guilt had clearly never bothered to listen to them.

"Its ok, boy," she told him weakly. "I'm not mad. I understand exactly what you're feeling."

The horse, encouraged by her voice, came nearer until he stood directly over her, sniffing her over.

Getting a fistful of his mane, she managed to pull herself to her feet.

"Look, Mitternacht," she said, the realization that she had acted the same way around the Horned King ever since she had met him making her understand what her friend was going through, "I know you don't like this either. But I can't do this by myself, and I _need _you to help me here. Please. He saved my life, and by extension, he saved yours."

The horse flicked his ears forward slowly to listen, watching her face.

"And now I need to save his. And I can't do it alone. Please, Mitternacht. . .I know you trust me, and I trust you. I would never put you in a situation where I knew you would get hurt if I could help it."

The horse blew softly and nuzzled her chest, the words themselves lost to him, but the meaning was understood perfectly.

Avalina rubbed his neck. "Alright, come here."

She slowly led him back over, letting him take his time, watching how he constantly flicked his ears.

After another five minutes of soothing, she got him to kneel for her, and, telling him to stay, went around to the Horned King.

After some hesitation, she touched his shoulder again, not sure if she wanted him to respond or not, but there was nothing. The only sign he was still with them was his breathing.

She studied his face for a moment, able to do so for the first time without him staring back. It looked like the only place on him that hadn't gotten injured by the wolves at some point.

The bones jutted out sharply from his face, every one pronounced to such a degree that it looked like they might actually break out of the skin. His cheekbones were the best example of this.

The rest of his face was gaunt and sunken in, the most noticeable of this being the space between his cheekbones and jaw, which was practically nonexistent, and his eyes. They were sunken so deeply into his skull that his brow ridges and cheekbones kept them layered in shadow.

Mercifully for Avalina, they were closed now, but she noticed for the first time that the skin around his eyes and his eyelids were a slightly darker green that the rest of his face.

His nose was nonexistent. Avalina couldn't think of any other way to put it. It was just gone, and in its place a grotesque hole he presumedly breathed through. She could almost see the bone under the skin here, it was stretched so tightly.

His mouth was full of teeth that were never covered at any time, as he didn't exactly have any flesh to cover them with, anymore. Twin pairs of long, sharp fangs, definitely not human, were positioned at the corners of his mouth.

His large horns curved out grandly above his head, branching off in several smaller stems, and if Avalina ignored what lay below them, they would look almost noble.

His face also looked like it had been burned or injured rather recently, as the skin seemed to be raw and extremely sensitive. (As raw-looking as you could get with a complexion like algaed-up pondwater)

All in all, he looked exactly like a decomposing corpse crossed over with a beast of some sort.

The fact that he was covered in blood and that odd black substance that Avalina had decided was his own equivalent of the crimson lifeforce every mortal carried did not help.

Avalina nearly threw up, but after looking away for a moment to draw deep breaths and compose herself, she gritted her teeth and took his left elbow in her left hand, carefully pulling him up just enough where she could slide her arm. . .her bad one, unfortunately. . .underneath his shoulders.

She should have started on his other side where she could use her good arm, but she was not about to move Mitternacht again. She might never get him back to this position.

As she moved the Horned King, Mitternacht stared at her fearfully and rolled his eyes, showing the whites all around them.

"Its alright, boy," she whispered. "Please stay there."

Closing her eyes tightly as a wave of pain swept down her right arm and shoulder, she pulled the unconscious Horned King into a sitting position, his head lolled back.

Saying a silent prayer that Mitternacht would not move from his kneeling position, she got to one knee and, after putting his arm over her shoulders for a better grip, (Shuddering horribly at the sensation and nearly retching again) held him around his shoulders with her other arm.

After a silent count, and bracing herself for the pain she knew was coming, she heaved herself up on both feet, taking the Horned King with her.

Stifling a scream of pain, she walked the three feet to where Mitternacht knelt, every muscle in his body twitching.

Murmuring soothing words to him, she carefully lay the Horned King's right arm over the horse's neck.

Mitternacht blew loudly at this in terror, his nostrils flaring wide, as Avalina whispered to him and rubbed his neck in an attempt to calm him. Whether he was doing this simply for her or he was simply too afraid to move remained to be decided.

Grunting, Avalina held all the Horned King's weight for a moment on her arms, before her own legs gave out and she was forced to lower him to the ground, all that headway lost.

For a skeleton he was completely, unreasonably, illogically heavy.

Frustrated, she realized she couldn't get him on by herself, and she bit down a stab of terror as she realized she'd have to wake him.

Not knowing how else to do it, she simply shook his shoulder.

"Sire, wake up. Can you hear me?"

A soft growling snarl made the horse start.

"Mitternacht, stay," she pleaded to the horse.

"Sire?"

His empty eyes slowly came open, freezing the blood in her veins as she made eye contact with him.

"You need to get on my horse, alright?"

Avalina told him, terrified he'd strike at her.

"I can't get you on by myself. You're going to have to help me, understand?"

Avalina pulled his left arm back over her shoulders, having no idea if he really understood what she was saying. Probably not.

"Alright, come on."

It took three tries, but with their combined effort, they finally got the Horned King's right leg over Mitternacht's back and the lich more or less lying on the horse's neck and withers.

Avalina went around to the other side and carefully slid up behind him, knowing she had no chance of walking. Her energy was spent.

With tremendous effort, she pulled the Horned King up into a sitting position in front of her, reaching around him grab Mitternacht's reins.

"Alright, boy," she softly clucked to him.

Mitternacht rose with a jolt to stand trembling, his ears flicking like mad and his eyes rimmed in white.

Avalina spoke gently to him and, holding the Horned King on in front of her (Who had lost consciousness again) she turned Mitternacht's head west. They would find the castle there somewhere.

Gripping his sides tightly with her legs so she wouldn't fall off herself, she kept her arms wrapped around the Horned King's waist, Mitternacht's reins in the very tips of her fingers. If he bolted now it was over.

"Walk on, boy," was all she murmured, right before Mitternacht headed out at a steady walk, his terror showing in every tiny movement.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

The pain in her back did a very good job of keeping Avalina conscious as she walked Mitternacht up to the steps of the castle. The door came open immediately and she breathed a sigh of relief as the Invisibles surrounded her, taking the Horned King's weight from her arms and her horse's back.

Then they pulled her off too.

"No!" She firmly, albeit softly, told them. "I need to take care of my horse."

A piece of parchment was thrown in her face.

Almost irritably she yanked it off and read the following.

_"You need care immediately. You can care for your horse afterward."_

Despite her protests, they all but dragged her inside and told her to sit by the fireplace in the first room.

She was unable to fight them much. Her back felt like it was on fire and her shoulder felt ready to fall off.

Sitting weakly down in a chair, she watched one lay some things down on the table near her, before going to quickly help their partners with the Horned King.

He lay motionless on the couch across from her, the Invisibles clustered about him.

For some reason, they seemed to be in a great state of confusion, hissing to each other. Something was wrong.

A piece of parchment floated out of midair to land in Avalina's lap.

_"We don't know what to do."_

"What?" Avalina asked in shock. "But. . .you can do everything else!"

A moment, before a reply came.

_"It seems that we cannot touch his um. . .blood, for lack of a better word. It's rather. . .painful for us. This is an unexpected complication our superiors did not tell us about. We would appreciate your help. We will care for you after we care for him."_

Avalina groaned softly. "You mean, that not only do I bring him back, but I'm going to have to stitch him up, too?"

A pause.

_"It seems that way."_

"Great."

Avalina would have rubbed her temples in frustration, but she had blood all over her hands.

"Show me what to do. I've never stitched someone up before."

_'And see, THIS is why you should have left him in the woods!'_ Her rational voice shouted.

_'Shut up,'_ she told it irritably.

* * *

Nearly two hours later, the Horned King had been stitched, bandaged and the Invisibles had changed him into another robe and stole identical to the ruined ones, which had promptly disappeared into thin air.

They had been remarkably patient with her, showing her how to weave the thread in and out of the skin properly and pull the wounds together, allowing her to stop for a moment when her own injuries became too painful for her to hold the needle steady. (Which they assured her they would care for when she was done waving a sharp object around) It was a grisly business, but she didn't know if he looked better or worse, with all those bandages on him.

How he managed to stay unconscious during all of it was a miracle in itself.

Avalina had carefully, following the Invisibles' directions, wiped an ointment of some sort on the Horned King's face to ease the pain for the burns. Avalina couldn't begin to think how he had acquired them.

Avalina was kneeling on the floor, bandaging his right arm, (The last part she had to do) when the muscles in his fingers twitched.

Avalina's heart stopped as she caught the movement, right as his eyes came open.

His left hand was around her throat before she even realized what had happened.

"Do you remember your promise?"

His voice was as cold and heartless as Death.

Avalina tried to break his grip in terror, but it was completely fruitless.

As he pulled her to him, he laboriously sat up and saw all the medical treatment he'd been given.

He stared at himself, then back at Avalina, and then at his arm, which was still in progress, and then all around to see where he was.

For the tiniest fraction of a second he looked like he'd been slapped in the face.

His fangs bared, he returned his icy gaze back to the girl.

"What did you do?"

"I. . brought you. . .back."

Avalina whispered as he loosened his grip, just enough for her to speak.

"Why?" He snarled softly.

"I don't know!" Avalina gasped, feeling the tears prick at the corners of her eyes, "I just couldn't leave you there!"

After what felt like an age, he slowly released her, allowing her to breathe again. His face was completely unreadable.

Summoning her courage, she reached forward to continue bandaging his arm.

"Don't touch me." He snarled, his eyes freezing her to the spot.

Avalina stared at him for a moment, thinking that if he wasn't so cruel he would sound like a cranky child, before picking up the bandage.

"Believe me, I'm trying NOT to."

The Horned King noticed she actually was taking the utmost caution to keep her own hands from touching his skin, relying on the bandages instead. This faintly amused him.

"Do you know what happens to people who break their promises to me?"

Avalina shivered, something he noted with approval.

"You swore you would not leave."

A tear slipped down her cheek.

"And you promised nothing here would harm me," she almost whispered out, before turning her attention back to his arm rather than his face.

The Horned King stiffened slightly. He had temporarily forgotten that. He had indeed promised her so, three weeks ago. But what did that matter? His entire history was comprised of lies, promises he had no intention of keeping, playing on his prisoners emotions to get what he wanted.

So why did he feel strangely about it now?

He tried to think of how to answer, but at the moment he could find nothing.

She had broken her promise, but he had broken his first.

Or had he?

"I didn't harm you," he answered, a bit smugly.

"You were going to."

This brought up something else.

"And your arrogance to try and fight me is pathetic."

"Well, when something comes at you, the first thought is to defend yourself!"

"Perhaps you would like a pan of coals thrown in your face as well?"

Avalina tried not to shake, but it was obvious that he meant every word he said.

_'Hot coals. . .'_

And then the burns on his face made sense, causing her to look up at him, despite her better judgement.

"You mean. . .I did that?"

"Don't play the innocent card with me."

"I didn't know water did that to you!"

A soft growl was her answer.

"I'm. . .I'm. . .sorry."

The Horned King stared at her in surprise as she finished his arm, before softly snarling.

"You don't mean that."

A pause.

"Yes, I do."

Finished, she went to rise, but he grabbed her and pulled her back to him, their faces only a couple of feet apart.

"I should kill you now, after all the trouble you've caused me."

Avalina finally broke, not able to take it anymore.

"Well, if you're going to kill me, then do it!" She sobbed, not bothering to try and loosen his grip on her neck as her tears finally slipped down her face.

"There's nothing stopping you!"

The Horned King's grip tightened immediately, causing her to close her eyes as breathing immediately became nigh impossible.

_'I'd rather die than live like this!'_

He had tightened his grip so that she was fighting for air, but not enough to completely cut her supply off.

After a moment, she heard a very soft, dark chuckle right by her face, something that made her chest constrict and a chill to run up her spine. The malice in that single noise was horrifying.

"After all the trouble I've gone through to keep you?" He whispered, the sound caressing her right eardrum, making her jump at its proximity.

Her eyes snapped open in shock at having his voice so close, and she realized his face was a foot from hers, him having just pulled back from the side of her head to watch her reaction at his words.

Avalina could only stare at him in horror, her body turned to stone, as he glared down at her, a malicious type of smirk on his face, as he finished.

"Then *I* would be the fool, child."

Slowly, he released his grip on her throat, allowing her to breathe again, his eyes never leaving hers as he leaned back on the couch. She was completely frozen to the spot, unable to move a muscle.

Until an Invisible slapped something on her back.

Avalina screamed, the force of her pain hitting her nerves throwing her forward, her elbows hitting the cushion mere inches from the Horned King.

She screamed again as she buried her face in her arms, feeling the fire travel up those slashes, feeling like she was being eaten alive.

If this was what the Horned King had felt when she threw the water in his face he had every right to be furious.

The pain only got worse instead of dying. Avalina balled her hands into fabric of some sort as she screamed into the couch cushions for all she was worth, not wanting the Horned King to see her in this way. Why hadn't the Invisibles waited until she was back in her chambers?

_'Make it stop! Make it stop!'_

She couldn't think. Couldn't remember her own name. Nothing was of any importance now except making the pain end.

It wasn't pain. It was agony. Pure, unbridled agony that lit her body up like lightning and forced another scream from her as it yanked mercilessly on every nerve she owned.

"Make it stop!" She screamed into the darkness, feeling her throat ache with the pressure.

"PLEASE!"

It might have been only a few moments. It might have been minutes, hours or days. . .she didn't know. When your world is only comprised of one thing, it runs in a loop, making time unintelligible.

And then it was over.

Vaguely, she felt something touch her shoulder lightly, for a fraction of a moment, before removing itself.

Then she heard the Horned King's voice rumble over her.

"Your wounds have been purged."

Barely awake, she felt the Invisibles bandage her, the cool substance on the fabric creating instant relief from the fiery torture that had wracked her system only a few moments before.

A blanket was tossed lightly over her back, and the Invisibles gently helped her to her feet, helping her stay upright as they began to walk her across the room toward her chambers.

Leaning on a chair she passed for support, she turned to look back at the Horned King, who had not taken his eyes off her.

"And thank you," she whispered, barely able to stay upright, "For saving my life."

And then everything went black.


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

The Horned King's first thought when he regained consciousness and saw Avalina's face in front of him was fury.

Pure, hot fury.

If it wasn't for her, none of this would have happened.

The water being thrown in his face had weakened him severely, to the point he could barely stand without aid, even after several minutes. All through the rest, until he lost consciousness, his face had felt like it was inside a live fireplace.

Then the teleporting had worsened it.

Teleporting was not as effortless as it looked. Not by a long shot, and even for an undead, it was physically draining to do so, especially with the agony he had currently been in.

It definitely hadn't helped that those worthless Invisibles had given him the wrong directions and he had ended up completely on the other side of the forest, watching Avalina and the wolves pass by him three hundred yards away. So he had had to teleport Again, this time to the correct place. And just barely in time to keep Avalina from losing her life too.

Those things, coupled with the fierce wolf battle that had seemed to last forever, and then the loss of so much of his blood-like substance, had finally been enough to make him pass out.

He had expected the wolves to turn tail and run the instant he appeared, as all other living things did, but one look at their eyes had ended that assumption.

He had seen the madness there, that crazed lust for killing that had no end. The illness had robbed them of any and all natural instinct and reason, to the point they would attack anything that moved. Even something like him, that struck mortal fear into every living creature he came near.

The realization of finding himself not only back in the castle, but bandaged up, and Avalina tending him as well, had been a mild shock to say the least.

He had demanded to know why she had brought him back, but her only excuse was, "I couldn't just leave you there!"

He withheld a hmph of mild disgust. Mortals were so pathetic. Relying on their feelings more than anything else. But. . .the only feeling anyone ever felt for him before was hate.

And the idea of her bandaging him had angered him. At first. He didn't need some *mortal's* help!

Everything she said was completely true, although he had been a bit surprised that she hadn't known what water could do to him. If she had been lying he would have sensed it.

Still angry at her for getting him in this infuriating predicament, he had threatened to kill her. Threatened, he thought, mildly irritated at himself. Again. When was he actually going to carry this threat out? Like she had said herself, nothing was preventing him from doing so.

Looking down at her, he had realized that she was the first to ever argue with him, and get away with it. Anyone else would have been killed the instant he regained consciousness.

Making up his mind upon the conclusion that having her around was interesting and provided some form of entertainment, and that if he killed her now, everything he had gone through a few hours previously to save her life would have been for absolutely nothing. The Horned King did not believe in waste of any type, particularly when it pertained to him.

And so he had spared her. Again.

Neither of them had noticed the Invisible come up behind Avalina and slap a thick rag coated in something on her back.

The Horned King had watched in surprise as the events unfolded, the girl's head beside his leg on the couch, nearly in his lap, her hands fisting tightly into the folds of his robe as she screamed and screamed and screamed into the cushions, begging for it to stop.

He doubted she even knew what she was doing.

Angry at the Invisibles for interrupting, he had yanked the cloth off the girl's back, only to stop dead, his eyes widening as he took the damage in.

Her shirt was ripped to pieces, only a few strands holding it on at all, and underneath were bloody gashes that ran all the way from one side of her back and shoulders to the other, and they looked deep.

They were clearly made by wolf claws. It must have happened before he got there. Judging by the look of them, how she hadn't passed out from the pain yet was mildly surprising.

He had bitten back a growl and just barely kept his eyes from changing. The consolation that the entire wolf pack was now dead was the only thing that prevented him from calling in the Creeper for a little self-therapy.

The Invisible had then yanked the cloth from him and slapped it back on, telling him that it was something to pull any disease out of the wounds.

Avalina's screaming intensified doublefold now, and she was almost writhing by his side, screaming for it to stop, please.

He watched, but his eyes did not hold the malice they had been filled with a minute ago.

He understood all too well what she was experiencing. The flames of the Cauldron licked at his consciousness every single day, and the episode he had experienced a few hours ago (That she had brought on, coincidentally ) had been the worst in a long time.

Not that he would ever go so far as to compare this with the horrors of the Black Cauldron, but he knew the feeling of being burned alive all too well.

He was not pitying her. . .oh no, the Horned King pitied no one, especially the people that caused him a lot of trouble. He mentally scoffed at such a notion. He enjoyed torturing people, not keeping torture from them.

But he understood her pain.

No, her agony. He understood her agony. But why wasn't he enjoying it like he normally would have? He had no answer to that.

Finally, the Invisible pulled the cloth off, and the girl's screaming stopped. Which was good, because his ears were beginning to ring.

The Horned King did not even realize until then that the tips of his fingers were lightly resting on her shoulder, almost in a comforting gesture, as if he was reassuring the girl that it was now over, until he felt her warmth seep through what little remained of her shirt.

Quickly, he withdrew, explaining the reason for the torture she had just suffered, as he did not expect the Invisibles to do so.

Carefully, the servants bandaged her, tossed a blanket over her shoulders and helped the sobbing girl stand up, helping her walk to her chambers. But right as she left the small ring of furniture near the fireplace, she had turned back.

And thanked him for saving her life.

Right before she finally passed out, no doubt from blood loss, pain, and exhaustion.

The Invisibles had caught her as she fell forward and carefully carried her up the steps to her room.

After they disappeared, he had remained in his position by the fire for some time, deep in thought.

She had thanked him. And it had been in earnest.

_"Thank you."_

No one had ever uttered those words to him. Ever. He had never done anything to anyone to deserve those words, much less receive them, in the entirety of his existence.

And yet she had.

The first time she had thanked him, after the shock of hearing it had worn off, he had dismissed it as mere habit on her part. For a peasant she seemed to have a rather decent upbringing, and thanking people for something she appreciated seemed to be natural for her, regardless to whom she was speaking. But this. . .

Thanking someone for saving your life was a whole lot deeper than thanking someone for more trivial things.

And Avalina had sincerely thanked him for just that.

Not only that, but she had apparently returned the favor for him as well.

She could have left him in the woods to die and gone home, to the place she seemed to think was so important and clearly craved to be more than anywhere else.

But she hadn't. She had taken him back to the castle, (Her prison, the last place she wanted to be) dressed his injuries, (of Prydain's most hated enemy, and also hers) despite the fact of who he was and the treatment he had dealt her since the day she arrived.

A part of him wanted to simply dismiss this as an act of fear, that she was afraid he would survive by himself somehow and come for her and her family, but a very small part of him whispered that it wasn't so.

_"I couldn't just leave you there!"_ Her words echoed in his mind.

If that was correct, he mused, then he owed his current existence to Avalina. Without her aid he surely would have bled to death.

He blinked, stiffening slightly.

_'I owe that girl nothing,'_ he thought in anger. _ 'If she had not tried to run away, none of this would have happened in the first place.'_

_'And why did she run away?'_ A small voice asked him, but he impatiently brushed it away.

He glanced down at himself, pulling up his sleeve to examine the neat bandaging underneath.

_'But she brought me back,'_ he mused in mild puzzlement.

_'Knowing what could await her for her actions. Why? It makes no sense. There was no logical reason for her to do what she did.'_

He suddenly frowned as another thought came to him.

_'And furthermore, *how* did she bring me back in the first place? Surely she couldn't have carried me back herself, especially not in her own physical state.'_

He mentally scoffed at the notion of that slip of a girl carrying anything even remotely heavy.

_'That means she would have had to use. . .'_

His eyes narrowed.

_'Her horse.'_

* * *

After a few hours of forced bedrest from the Invisibles, Avalina went straight to the stable to care for Mitternacht, noticing the Horned King was no longer by the fire in the entrance room.

Mitternacht was still extremely agitated and anxious to be soothed and loved on at great length, which Avalina was only too happy to oblige to.

The first thing she had noticed was a thick white bandage stretching around the horse's girth and chest, another wrapped firmly around his left thigh. She hadn't noticed he was injured earlier, but if the Invisibles had done the same thing to him as they had to her own wounds. . .

Avalina shuddered at the horrible memory, making a mental note to have a firm talk with them about that. The last thing she wanted was to show any more weakness around the Horned King.

She didn't understand how he could be so cruel to her, save her life, and then go right back to his old behavior. Nothing he did made any sense. He was a monster.

But when he had stared at her earlier, right before her screaming had started (She was still irritated at the Invisibles over that) she had seen something different in those terrible eyes.

Something she had never seen there before, something she recognized but couldn't quite name.

And it puzzled her.

* * *

"You could have waited to throw that torture device on her until she got *Back* to her room and had some privacy!"

The second Invisible scolded.

"Yeah, that was totally unnecessary, doing it that way!"

The third said crossly.

"I thought you cared about her."

"Of course I do!" The first Invisible snapped angrily. "But we'd waited two hours, plus however old those wounds already were when she got here. We couldn't wait any longer without treating them!"

"Why didn't you at least let me give ol' Spike Head a dream trip first, huh? It would have been easy! Just one good whack behind the horns. . ."

Because knowing you, you would have killed him."

"Ha! You consider that a BAD thing?" The second scoffed.

"We wouldn't," the third said cheerfully, "We've got way too many beautiful, beautiful pranks left to play on him. . ."

Its voice had taken on a rather dreamy quality.

The fourth spoke up for the first time, directing its sentence at the first.

"Honestly, I would have waited a minute more before I started. Did you see the way they were looking at each other?"

"Yes!" The first said huffily. "Avalina looked like she wanted to just disappear, and the master was enjoying every second of it. I had to break the tension somehow."

"There's way better ways to do it than that!" The fourth exclaimed. "She embarrassed herself in front of the Horned King to top off everything else that's happened to her today."

"Did anyone else catch what else he did?" The second grinned.

"Oh, yeah!" The third sang joyfully. "ProgREEEEESSSS!"

"I think he was feeling sorry for her," the fourth said.

"Hmph!" The first snorted. "That monster doesn't care about anyone except himself."

"That's what he keeps telling himself, anyway," the third said. "I see dem signs!"

The second laughed, before putting on a foreign accent and nodding sharply in approval. "You have learned well, young grasshopper. HM!"

"I wonder how in the world she got him back here," the first marveled. "I don''t know how she managed to hold him on all the way here!"

"I'd like to know how she got him on the *horse*!" The third said.

"That thing was a shaking, raging wreck when we took care of him. How she even got him within a hundred yards of ol' Spike Head is a miracle."

"How we got him bandaged up is a miracle, after the way he fought us!"

"How *she's* alive at all is a miracle, especially since you gave him the wrong directions!"

"I circled the area he needed to be on the map!"

"More like colored it in! It was the size of a blasted spoon. Avalina doesn't know how lucky she is to be alive, with you two idiots giving the Horned King directions."

"We could have sped everything up and helped her out a whole lot more if we weren't bound only to this castle and the courtyard."

"Which is totally not fair."

"Speaking of not fair, you and I have a show to watch!"

"Oh, right!"

And with that, the two Invisibles were gone.

"Heaven knows what they're up to now," the first groaned.

"Were you able to hide the mead from Creeper this time?" The fourth asked, trying to distract the other.

"I just threw it all out," the first said wearily. "Nobody drinks it anyway, and its not worth the trouble it causes."

"How long did it take for him to come out of it?"

A while. You'd be surprised at how much the little bugger can consume without passing out."

"Speaking of the little bugger, where is he now?"

"As long as he stays out of sight, I'm happy."

A croaky warbling noise sounded from the passage that led to the kitchen, obviously intoxicated.

"You're a mean one, Mister Grinch. (HIC!)

You really aaaaaare, a (HIC!) heeeeeeeel!

You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mister Griii-INCH! (HIC!)"

The two Invisibles sat silently, listening to the Creeper-And-Alchohol combo.

"You're a bad banana with a (HEEK!) greeeeaaassy black peeeeel!"

". . . . . .I thought you said you got it all."

". . . . . .I did. At least, I thought I did. Where the heck did he get that!"

"Don't look at me! I haven't been snitching him any! And before you ask, I know the others wouldn't either. They don't like the treatment he gets from the master anyway. They wouldn't set him up like this."

A short gasp.

"Can you imagine what the master would think if he heard this?"

". . . .Let's find out!"

"NO!" We're going to shut him up, tie him up, and gag him somewhere til it wears off! Help me!"

"I want him to finish the song first!"

They both paused for a moment, listening to the drunken warbling that was gradually getting closer.

"You're a foul one, Mister Grinch. (HIC!)

You're a naaasty, waaaaaasty SkUnK! (HIC!)"

"Absolutely not. I refuse to let Avalina hear this abomination. She's been through more than enough for one day. We'll lock him in the gwythaint's stable til it wears off."

Sounds good to me. But only if I get to watch."

"Oh for heaven's sake. Those two are rubbing off on you too much-"

"Shush!" The other said excitedly. "This is my favorite line!"

"..."

"The three words that HIC!) best describe you are (Hack!) as follows, and I quote, (HIC!)

Stink! (Hic!) Stank! (Heek!) Stunk! (HEEKLE!)

* * *

As the Horned King ascended his the steps to his chambers, he was so deep in thought over what had happened earlier, he didn't notice his door until he was right in front of it.

A huge poster was plastered from top to bottom, covering every inch of the wood, filled with bright colors, ridiculous various shapes and something that looked like a messy child's drawing of odd looking horses. Across the top of the poster were the words,

"I love FLUFFY RAINBOW UNICORNS! They make me so HAPPY-HAPPY, dude! ^_^"

The Horned King's deeply contemplative mood instantly disappeared, and his hands clenched together tightly. This had not been a good day at all so far, and the servants seemed determined to keep it that way.

Ripping the poster down, he wadded it up and threw it on the burning torch by his door in a fury, before marching inside his chambers, looking forward to some peace and quiet. . .

Paper wads and streamers of every color lay an inch thick on every available surface, coating his room in a blinding blast of colors.

Above his throne, right above his reach, was a banner in the same colors as the rest, with the words,

"WELCOME HOME SPIKE HEAD!"

Emblazoned proudly across it. It waved at him cheerfully in greeting as he pushed the door open.

His temper snapped. Eyes flashing blood red, he marched out of the room (Stepping all over that detestable paper that had decided to follow him out) he called those Invisibles everything under the sun as he roared through the hall.

"CURSE YOU!"

The insane cackling in the room below him only infuriated him more, knowing there was not a single thing he could do about it.

* * *

**LOL! Those Invisibles. . .they'd drive anyone crazy! XD Don't forget to leave a review or something to let me know you enjoyed the chapter:)**

**The drunk Creeper was inspired by Faerydame and a Horned King video on Youtube with the Grinch's theme song on it XD. You should totally go and watch it! LOL**


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

It had been a week since the wolf incident, and things had returned more or less to their original schedule. For Avalina, at least.

Her back felt much better now, where she could almost forget she had been hurt, unless she moved the wrong way too quickly, whereupon she would get a sharp reminder.

She still played an hour for the Horned King every day, but he had moved his chair to the window, (Halfway across the room) so he could look out, or back at her. He was still behind her, but not quite so close, and that relaxed her a great deal more than she had ever even thought possible. Another thing she had noticed was that he had not mentioned another word about her limited music abilities, nor had he ever attempted to come within ten feet of her again. A trend she was only too willing to keep going.

She had had time to practice a little more than usual this week, and using the music books, had taught herself a new one. She had known the lyrics for years, but the music had always escaped her. She had asked her old music teacher to show her how to play it, but they had either been too busy or ignored her request.

Now, however, she had learned it, and it would be a perfect surprise for the Horned King as she brought the hour to a close. Providing her voice didn't crack and her fingers didn't slip, that is.

* * *

The Horned King could almost feel his wounds healing whenever Avalina sang. It filled him with that burning sensation he could not name, that strength that made him feel as if he could win any battle, destroy all his foes, and that subtle, deep feeling in his chest that made him feel so calm inside, like a gentle breeze stirring newborn leaves.

He had not mentioned the lack of new music since the incident. He realized that she was only a peasant, and as such there was only so much she could learn, and that he had set the bar for her rather high.

Given that she was a nervous wreck nearly all the time, especially in his presence, it was no wonder she could not learn anything.

He found that he enjoyed her music more, now that he had moved his chair. Her stress level had shrank, and her playing had improved greatly. It was well worth not terrorizing her whenever she came into the room.

He turned his attention from the window back to her, realizing that he did not recognize the melody she was slowly tinkling out on the piano. (He had finally gotten that instrument's name from the Invisibles)

It was slow and calming, yet it had a bright undertone that sounded like it couldn't wait to break out, stirring that faint burning in the Horned King's chest.

Then Avalina's soft voice came in, almost soothing, yet clear and bright, like a fresh spring morning.

"Under the snow,

Beneath the frozen streams there is Life. . .

You have to know,

When Nature sleeps she dreams

There is Life. . .."

Her voice drew out a few words more than others, enough so that that cheerful undertone shown through even more, her voice rising a little on the last line and staying there as she went into the next verse.

"And the colder the Winter

The warmer the Spring

The deeper the Sorrow

The more our hearts Sing

Even when you can't see it, inside Everything. . .

There is Life. . ."

His ear caught Avalina humming softly to herself as her fingers danced lightly over the keys, dong a short break before going into the next verse. He noticed that she was actually enjoying herself, very probably for the first time since she had came here. And it showed.

"After the rain, the sun will reappear

There is Life. . .

After the pain, the joy will still be here

There is Life. . ."

Here, her voice and the music swelled to accent the fire inside him, that he could feel getting stronger the longer the song went on.

"For its out of the Darkness

That we learn to See

And out of the Silence

That songs come to Be

And all that we dream of awaits Patiently. . .

There is ~*Life!*~"

The notes danced through the air so fast he felt like he could almost feel their breeze as they swept over him, as Avalina's voice softened again and drew out the last line of the song.

There,

Is,

~*Life*~. . ."

The notes slowly faded into obscurity, leaving the most peaceful silence that had ever reined in this wretched castle.

They both sat motionless, not wishing to destroy this just yet. It was. . .it was. . .

_'Beautiful.'_

The Horned King blinked at himself, hardly able to believe he had thought that word.

He should feel disgusted with himself for doing so, but yet. . .

He realized he could not. This feeling was still too strong in the room for him to do so.

But he had been right.

It _was_ beautiful.

The words in that song were so powerful, so promising. . .so hopeful.

The clock gonged loudly, signifying the end of the hour.

Avalina started sharply at the bench with a loud gasp, all her control preventing her from leaping from it.

The Horned King smirked faintly, his amusement at her reaction overriding the irritation directed at that blasted clock.

Avalina gracefully stood, turning in his direction, and bowed from the waist for a moment before rising, watching him for orders.

Usually he was rather curt, but he seemed to be so lost in thought this time. . .he nodded very faintly at her in dismissal.

Bowing her head slightly, Avalina turned to go, but as her fingers brushed the handle of the door, she could not help glancing back at him.

He stood, with his hands clasped behind his back, staring out the window, over his dead realm, and possibly observing the magnificent green country farther out, where his influence over the land ended.

With his face turned away from her, Avalina thought he looked almost noble, with those horns curving gracefully out, the spikes branching off, standing as tall and straight as an old oak tree.

And yet. . .he looked. . .he felt. . .so exceedingly. . .

She felt the air for the emotions that were floating in the room, and then their names.

They were so faint, so very faint they could hardly even *be* felt. She was surprised she had sensed them at all. It was obvious he kept every last bit of feeling, of humanity, (If he even had any) of anything, locked deep inside himself where no one could see anything, except the monster he was.

But they were very faint now, having been nudged just slightly to the surface of his ice facade, just enough for Avalina to pick them up.

Perhaps the music had had something to do with it.

The first she felt was loneliness. Yes, that was one.

He looked terribly lonely.

The other was a bit harder to discern, but she thought it was something along the lines of despair or discouragement of some sort. And it felt like he may have carried these feelings for quite some time. They were so heavy. . .

Avalina felt her heart ache at sensing these things, and she found herself wishing that he didn't feel so sad.

_'I wish I could make him happy.'_

Avalina nearly started at this.

_'Why am I even thinking like this?'_ She thought, horrified at her line of thinking.

_'You know he can't feel! He's a heartless monster. There's not even any humanity left in him to feel anything. You're just imagining this.'_

_'How could I imagine something like this?'_ She argued silently with herself. _'Coming from *him?*'_

She knew he realized she had not left, by the way he slightly inclined the right side of his head in her direction, a silent invitation to speak if she wished.

_'I feel like I should say something,'_ she thought to herself. _'But I have no idea what to say.'_

"Sir?" Her own voice startled her. She hadn't meant to speak! Or had she?

Conflicted, she watched the Horned King slowly turned in her direction, his face as impassive as stone, clearly a sign to keep going.

She had known what she wanted to ask him, but the instant his eyes had settled on her she had forgotten. Her stomach clenched.

"Um. . ."

_'Come on, girl, think!'_

Her mind raced frantically, lighting on the first thing she could think of.

"How are you today?"

She physically cringed at how stupid that question sounded.

Feeling herself blush in embarrassment, she glanced down at the floor, wishing she could have picked anything else to say other than that.

_'You idiot, you idiot,'_ she thought miserably to herself as the silence dragged on.

"I am. . .well."

His deep, gravelly voice made the hair on her neck stand up. Taken by surprise that he had actually answered, Avalina looked up at him, to see that he was watching her for a reaction.

Now she really couldn't think of anything to say, and the silence was getting awkward. She had had a halfway decent question for a good conversation earlier, but it had escaped her. Another suddenly popped up in her mind and she snatched at it before she bothered to think.

She could not remember if it was her original idea or not, but it would have to do.

"W-would you like to come meet Mitternacht?"

The Horned King stared at her for a moment, and she thought she detected a hint of surprise in the air, before he answered.

"Who?"

"My horse," Avalina answered hopefully.

After a moment, he slowly shook his head.

"No."

"Oh," Avalina nearly whispered, dropping her gaze to the floor again, feeling foolish. "I'm sorry."

After a long, uncomfortable pause, the Horned King answered her.

"It isn't that I would not like to see him, but I do not think he would like to see me."

"But. . .he's seen you before."

She left off the rest of her explanation, not wishing to glorify herself or seemingly belittle him.

"Yes, and you are unbelievably fortunate that he did not kill you. Animals fear me."

". . .Why?"

Normally she wouldn't ask this, but he seemed far more willing to talk than he had the entire time she had been here, and she wasn't about to discourage him.

"Everything fears me."

". . .Oh."

Avalina watched him turn his head to glance out of the window again, and she felt that loneliness raise a little more, and she realized she couldn't just walk out now.

"He'll behave if I ask him to."

The Horned King turned back to her, the realization of what she was thinking hitting him.

"You seem to have a relationship with your horse that is. . .unusual, to say the least. Years of work would be destroyed in a single moment if I accepted your offer, and the trust between he and you would be shattered, with no way to regain it. Do you want that?"

Avalina shrank under his gaze and the words that accompanied him, but continued.

"He knows I would never intentionally endanger him. I know he would never hurt me on purpose either."

After a pause when he didn't reply, she softly asked him.

"Please? Please come?"

A soft sigh grated itself into the air, before he turned back towards her with a faint air of resignation.

"Very well. You have been duly warned."

* * *

**The song is copyrighted to Alison Krauss and Disney. It's called There Is Life. Its off Bambi 2, and I thought it just fit so perfectly here I couldn't pass it up. Don't forget to review, people! XD**


	56. Chapter 56

Chapter 56

"Not in the stable," the Horned King had told her. "Your beast will lose his mind either way, but he will have room to run in the courtyard should he feel the need."

Avalina was now regretting that she had said anything, but it was far too late to turn back now.

Trembling, she saddled Mitternacht as he watched her curiously, wondering what was going on.

He had healed admirably over the course of the week, his wounds sealing up and simply leaving ugly clotted strips. Luckily, none of them were in the way of the equipment straps.

Avalina took a deep breath to calm herself, before going around to Mitternacht's head.

"Boy," she said softly, placing a hand on the side of his face, "I know you trust me with all of your heart, or we would never have the friendship we do now. I trust you too, and I know you know that."

Avalina took in a breath, noticing how the horse was listening to her every syllable.

"I want you to prove to the Horned King that it isn't completely impossible for every living thing to fear and hate him. I'll be right there with you the whole time, I promise. And I know you've done this before, but he wasn't really conscious then. So its almost the same thing."

_'Almost.'_

Giving him a light kiss on the nose, she walked around and mounted, careful of her back. There was no way she was trying this on the ground. If Mitternacht acted up she would be safer on his back than on the ground. He would never hurt her on purpose, but being at ground level with a frightened horse, no matter what type, was all but asking to get hurt.

Nudging his sides lightly, she rode toward the doors as they opened and her horse stepped through.

_'Well, here we go,' _she thought, resolved. _'No turning back now.'_

The Horned King was sitting at a stone bench facing the stable, roughly thirty five or forty feet from the entrance, watching.

Avalina knew when Mitternacht saw him.

The horse froze dead in his tracks, and Avalina could almost feel that flesh underneath her turn to stone as he took the Horned King in. Instantly his coat began to dampen with sweat as he stood there trembling.

The walk across the courtyard wouldn't even have taken a minute under normal terms, but making it to the halfway mark had already taken at least fifteen.

Sweat rolled down both of their bodies as Avalina kept urging him forward, trying to keep herself from shivering in fear. Despite this painfully slow pace and the fact that her hands were blistering from keeping the terrified animal on a straight course, (He kept wanting to turn off to the side and his attempts were nearly constant) and her legs ached from pressing against his ribs to keep him from going backwards, she couldn't find it in herself to be angry, or even irritated. She knew exactly how Mitternacht felt, and no doubt he was wondering to himself why in heaven's name she was doing this to him. Again.

"My apologies," she panted to the Horned King, who had the good grace not to move a muscle the entire time, "This is taking longer than I thought."

"I did not think you would make it this far."

At the sound of his dredging, monotone voice, Mitternacht immediately lost it.

In one, conjoined movement, the horse reared up, screaming, wrenched himself around in the opposite direction and kicked off the ground like a catapult.

Avalina gave a short scream in surprise and fright as he shot like an arrow across the courtyard, nearly unseating her, making it back to the stable in three massive strides.

Luckily for Avalina, the door was closed, so he could go no further, or else he very probably would have scraped her off his back as he went through.

"Mitternacht!" She shouted above the racket, her sudden strike of fear finally giving way to anger. "Listen to me! Great stars, *Listen* to me!"

She managed to pull him up by the stable door as he thrashed about in panic, throwing his head about and leaping high in the air.

For a moment it felt like he was going to start bucking, and she gripped the saddle tighter with her legs, praying she wouldn't come off, while she used both hands to try and keep his head up.

"I said *Listen!*"

By the time he finally stopped fighting her, her hands felt like she had grabbed a burning coal. They were literally on fire.

He stood, facing the Horned King now, staring in horror at this monstrosity that his rider was trying to urge him toward, his eyes rimmed in white, breathing like a bellows as he flared his nostrils.

Foam dripped from his mouth and lather streaked his sides, which were heaving from exertion, but Avalina could tell his fit was up.

For now.

The Horned King had stood up when the horse had bolted, but seeing as Avalina had things more or less under control again, gracefully sat back down.

The horse shivered violently at this, and Avalina mentally prepared herself for another explosion, gently rubbing his neck and murmuring soft words to him, telling him what a silly boy he was and that she would never put him in any danger.

The horse, at last, heaved a great sigh, like the sweeping of a snowblast on a stormy night, and finally flicked his ears back to listen to her, rather than devoting all his attention to the Horned King.

Slowly, Avalina felt that stone-hard body beneath her turn to flesh again, felt his mouth loose through the reins, and by extension his mind, become more receptive to her soothing.

After several minutes, he finally dropped his neck from the high-alert position at the very top of his withers and slowly lowered his head, giving her control of him again.

Tiredly, he turned his head around to look at her and nuzzle her left boot.

Avalina rubbed his face and spoke softly to him, the words meaningless to anyone else who might have heard. It was a language only an equestrian and their horse could ever understand.

It was their song.

The horse now stood quietly, waiting for orders, one ear cocked back to listen to her, the other on the obstacle in front of him, the item he knew she wished him to approach.

Gently, she tapped his ribs with her heels and whispered firmly, "Walk on."

Mitternacht took a hesitant step forward, his body listening to her every cue.

"Go on, I'll be doing this right here with you."

Feeling quiet courage emanating from his rider, the horse took heart and moved forward another few paces, then some more, until he was walking firmly across the courtyard, his head up, his strides even, the very picture of confidence.

His tail switched once as he flicked both ears forward now, paying attention to what was in front, not bothering to check with his rider. He knew she was right there beside him, and she would stay there. He wasn't alone.

Together, they marched right up to the stone bench, not missing a single beat, until the horse sensed the air around them change at the ten-foot mark as the Horned King's horrible aura swept over them.

Chomping nervously, he felt his rider's comforting hand on his neck, gently asking, and he slowly covered the rest of the distance until he was standing directly in front of the creature, and, with a soft, resigned snort, rested his muzzle against the Horned King's knee.

"Merciful gods."

The words sounded like they were not meant to be voiced at all, but Avalina could hear the pure, time-stopping shock that dripped from every syllable. She had never heard anyone sound this shocked, this completely *emotional* in her life, and it was the only thing that had not sounded like a dead man talking that the Horned King had ever uttered in her presence.

It was so strong she felt tears spring to her eyes with its intensity as she looked at him. Those syllables he had spoken sounded like a massive dam breaking, and she felt the wave of soaring emotion from behind that wall hit her like a typhoon.

She knew Mitternacht felt it too, and raising his head, he looked straight at the Horned King, ears forward, eyes bright under that messy forelock, and blew softly in the lich's face, the edges of the Horned King's hood bending slightly from it.

That wave of emotion rose to a nearly staggering crescendo in the air, as the lich met the horse's eyes, which stared back with all the regal calm of an elegant eagle.

Avalina smiled down at him, unable to look away from the lich's face. He looked like he had seen something so groundshaking, that he was having trouble comprehending it. He looked like how anyone else might look if they'd just been kissed.

_'In a way,'_ Avalina mused thoughtfully, _'He has.'_

Feeling her horse's ribs twitch, she realized that she was having a little trouble breathing, as was her horse. Carefully, she backed him up until they were out of the Horned King's aura, where Mitternacht stood like a war horse of the highest nobility, tossing his head slightly as he pawed once, sparks flying from his shoe to dissipate in the air.

The Horned King stared at both of them with an expression Avalina had never seen anyone in her life use, but the soaring feeling it gave her heart made it more than worth it.

After another moment, the Horned King seemed to gain control of himself again and moved his features back into that cold, emotionless mask he had worn since the beginning of time as he weakly twitched his fingers in dismissal.

Avalina inclined her head slightly at the Horned King, unable to keep the smile off her face, and turned Mitternacht back to the stable.

He walked away like a conqueror, his head held high, and Avalina could not help but do so as well, grinning like mad through her tears.

"We did it, Mitternacht," she murmured joyfully, causing the horse's feet to lift a little higher.

"We did it."

* * *

The Horned King accepted the fact that if the girl would not listen to him, she would have to learn the hard way. The obvious conclusion that her horse would lose his mind was inevitable.

He knew the countries he conquered had always questioned themselves why the Horned King's men never had any horsemen. Conquest would certainly have been a whole lot easier, but the sheer fact of it was that no animal of any type could stay very long in the Horned King's presence without going mad. The one and only time he had tried to incorporate horses into his army was also the last time.

He had lost a total of nearly three hundred men during the fracas, all trampled to death, and all 800 horses he had acquired had had to be destroyed. So, once again, his massive strategic intellect and warlord status had helped him much more than mere props.

Feeling somewhat reluctant, he had gone along with this ridiculous plan of hers.

He knew what was going to happen. The horse would go mad. Avalina would be completely crushed. And nothing would change.

The instant the horse had stepped out of the stable and into the courtyard, the animal's demeanor was one of complete, uncontrollable terror.

The first sign.

He watched as Avalina began to work the horse across the courtyard, watching how she worked her legs, her hands, her whole body, walking the horse slowly towards him.

The beast, being a sensible creature, wanted nothing to do with him and protested with all he had.

The Horned King watched with extreme interest as Avalina maneuvered the animal in his direction. He took great care not to move the slightest bit, lest the progress be wasted, but he knew the end result would be the same. It always was.

Around the halfway mark, his surprise that they had gotten this far had loosened his tongue, and he had foolishly answered Avalina. In truth, he could not believe this slip of a girl had handled this massive animal so well.

The horse went crazy, just as he had expected, and launched across the yard in a panic.

He stood up, watching as the horse fought and threw himself about.

How Avalina stayed on was something only a true equestrian could accomplish.

He did not expect the horse to calm down. He did not expect the horse to listen to his rider. He had expected nothing but what had happened before.

He felt everything he had ever told himself about every living thing fearing him crumbling as a change came over the big black horse on the far side of the courtyard.

Suddenly, he started walking.

And not just any walk. The horse walked like a champion across the courtyard, pace steady and resolved. The only time he balked was where the Horned King's aura became nigh-suffocating, but after a pause, the horse stepped right on through.

Dumbfounded, the Horned King had stared in amazement as the horse slowly came forward, and, with a soft sigh, rested its head against his leg, before raising it to look him over.

That horse held him motionless in its brown, liquid gaze. He doubted he could move even if he wanted to. Slowly, the horse had studied his face like a eagle would scan the land below them, through that thick black forelock, looking both noble and terribly intimidating, and the Horned King had the strangest feeling in his chest.

It wasn't fear. Not exactly. It was reverence. It was complete awe.

And then, the horse had leaned his muzzle forward, its ears pricked. . .

And breathed gently on his face.

It was so warm. . .

The Horned King's emotional dam had broken then, (Entirely against his will) with all that hope he refused to believe in rising on broken wings and mending as it touched that horse's breath.

Every hope, every despair, every hate, every bitter little thing. . .he felt them explode out of his chest and soar into the air in a release unlike anything he had ever felt. And he was powerless to stop it. He wasn't certain if he even wanted to stop it. It was just happening.

His chest had never felt so completely empty as it had in that one moment, and yet. . .it had never felt so full. Like he had released so much of himself into oblivion he would have to rebuild himself with the items around him that remained.

Staring into that horse's eyes, he saw something so magnificent, so beautiful, yet so deadly, and so much more powerful than himself, staring right back without flinching. . .it was the most humbling, brought-low-and-raised-again experience he had ever felt in his entire existence.

It was almost downright frightening. If the Horned King knew such a thing for anything besides the Cauldron, that is.

He watched as Avalina backed the horse up, where he stood for a moment, like a painting of legend come to life.

After a long, long time, he managed to compose himself and come back to earth.

The horse crossed the courtyard to the stable like a conqueror, his head up, his step lively.

Avalina looked like one too.

As the Horned King watched, spellbound, as they disappeared into the stable and the doors closed, he was deep in thought.

That was a horse for a god itself.

And Avalina rode him.

_'How is that even possible?'_ He thought, numb in shock over what he had just experienced.

_'For a beast like that to accompany someone like her?'_

It took extreme power on the rider's part, of that he knew.

Suddenly, his respect for Avalina rose from nonexistent to nigh-infinity.

And deep in his chest, right where he thought he would never feel anything ever again. . .he felt the faintest, the tiniest, the dimmest. . .

Sliver of cautious, desperate hope.

_'Perhaps,'_ he thought to himself, touching his face, still feeling that warm, awakened sensation.

_'Perhaps.'_

His brow furrowed slightly.

_'This will have an explanation.'_

* * *

**I own nothing but the story and my OC's. All else belongs to Disney and Lloyd Alexander. REVIEW! XD**


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Avalina spent several hours in the stable with Mitternacht, telling him what a good, brave boy he was to do something like that.

She had tied rags around her hands, which were bleeding rather badly from the palms. The horse had yanked the leather reins through her hands so hard and so frequently in those few moments that her palms were not in the best of shape.

In the beginning, she had had no intention of taking him right up to the Horned King, merely stopping him at the ten-foot mark. Because if she couldn't do it, then it would be unfair to expect Mitternacht to do such a thing.

But when she had gotten up there, she had realized that if she allowed herself (And by extension the horse) to back out and stay in the comfort zone, then this whole deal wouldn't really profit anything at all.

And she was so glad she had gone completely through with it. The look on the Horned King's face had been priceless, and that torrent of emotion in the air had been more than worth it. It may have been exactly what the Horned King needed.

Judging by the way he had pulled himself together at the end, though, Avalina wasn't expecting he'd be like that tonight at the dining hall.

Mitternacht was extremely proud of himself and only too anxious to be fawned over, glorying in the attention.

When Avalina finally left the stable it was nearly completely dark. For some reason she had half expected the Horned King to still be sitting on the bench, and was mildly surprised to find that he was not.

The Invisibles had put proper bandages on her hands, along with a cool salve of some sort that took the stinging burn out of the wounds.

Supper was an awkward affair, like always, and Avalina felt the icy chill in the air around her captor. He hadn't changed a bit.

_'I should have guessed,' _she thought, a little bitterly. _'He doesn't know the honor he was given today.'_

After the meal, she was ushered out of the room by the Invisibles and taken downstairs to the fire in the entrance room of the castle.

The Horned King was already there.

Avalina saw his horns sticking up over the top of the chair and stopped halfway down the steps.

_'How in the world. . .Oh, right,'_ She remembered.

_ 'He teleported.'_

Coming slowly around she stood uneasily by the fire, watching him. This was something new.

_'What's going on?' _She thought to herself.

This had never happened before.

She was about to get her answer as she heard the Horned King pull in a rattling breath. Her hair stood on end when he spoke.

"Why such a name?"

Avalina knew he could only be talking about Mitternacht.

"Well, sir, it f-fits him, don't you think?"

A pause.

"I do not recognize its origin."

"Oh," Avalina answered as it dawned on her, "It means Midnight in Mrenagy."

She felt his stare even more, and she dropped her eyes to the rug.

"Why did you not simply call him Midnight then?"

"I. . .I wanted something original, something special for him, not something everyone else calls their horse. I wanted something individual. Don't you think he deserves it?"

A pause.

"I suppose."

Another pause.

Avalina slowly rubbed her hands together as she watched the Horned King tapping a finger slowly in thought on his chair arm.

"Tell me, how did a mere peasant come to possess and sit astride an animal that would be considered royal property under any other circumstances? He is a mount fit for a knight, a king even, and yet he belongs to neither."

"It surprises you, sir?"

"It intrigues me."

"Well, you see," Avalina said nervously. "Its kind of a lo. . .long story. A really, really long story."

The Horned King gestured toward the other chair near the fireplace, across from his.

"Sit."

Avalina, trying to keep her shaking to a minimum, obeyed. Carefully she sat down in the chair, surprised at how comfortable it was.

"Begin."

Avalina knew that was not an offer. It was a command.

Taking a deep breath, she complied.

* * *

"Momma, look at that!"

"Avalina, quit pestering Mother and help me," Arran groused.

He stared disapprovingly down at his ten-year old sister. She hadn't shut up once since they had entered the city. It had been one Momma-Look-At-This, Momma-Look-At-That moment after the other from the start, and it was wearing on his nerves.

"Let her be, Arran," Mother said gently as she piled some things into the cart. "You were the same way when you saw the city for the first time."

"No way," he told her. "I was never that bad."

Mother only chuckled.

"Momma, can we go see the fair?"

Arran gritted his teeth as her bright voice piped up again. The reason there were so many people about was that the yearly fair was going on in the town square, and he had no desire to go there.

"Momma, can we?"

"We need some things that are sold there, so yes, we'll be going."

"YAY!"

"Mother," Arran groaned, "You can't be serious. Do we HAVE to go in there?"

Two and a half days of walking and sleeping on a hard wagon bed had made him rather irritable.

"Alright Arran," his mother sighed.

Arran mentally brightened, thinking he had won, but was brutally shot down the next second.

"Since you don't want to go, then you can stay here and watch the cart."

"Wh-what?" Arran asked in shock.

"You heard me. Don't want anyone taking the things we bought with our own material."

"Bu-but. . .but. . .Hey!"

But his mother and sister were already gone, leaving an infuriated teenager sitting in the seat of the wagon.

"Now, Avalina dear, stick close to me," Mother cautioned. "This is a very big place, and if I were to lose you in this mass I'd never find you again."

"Yes, Momma," the little girl said solemnly, putting on her best grown-up face, "I'll stick close."

"Remember, if somehow we were ever to get accidently separated, go as close to the castle as you can without angering the guards and wait for me there."

"Yes Momma."

Her mother smiled down at her, and Avalina couldn't help smiling back in joy. She had never been to the big city before! There were so many big buildings and people! And she wanted to see the fair! From this distance it looked absolutely grand!

Avalina stared all around, trying to take everything in at once as she followed her mother to a booth. As her mother made purchases Avalina was taken in awe.

This place was Huge! And colorful! and so, so loud! The highlight of everything was some weird guy on a platform near the center, juggling swords, while another weird guy was doing magic tricks on the other side, calling people out of the crowd. It all looked so interesting!

"Hey, Momma, can we go over-ah!"

Something jolted her roughly forward, nearly making her fall. Avalina looked around herself to see what had hit her, only to find that she had been swept up into the moving crowd of people. It was so crowded she could hardly breathe!

"Momma, what are we gonna do next?"

Avalina looked happily up beside her, where her mother had been last, only to see. . .total strangers.

With a jump, Avalina turned around behind herself, then off to both sides again, instantly realizing that mother wasn't there anymore.

"Momma!"

Tears of fright sprang to her eyes as she looked around in a panic, trying to dodge people.

"MOMMA!"

Terrified, Avalina tried to fight her way through the crowd, looking frantically in all directions, but a small ten-year old girl in a heartless sea of adults was insignificant to everyone and anyone. No one listened to her or stopped to help, and she found herself sobbing uncontrollably in terror as she was swept along with the crowd, looking for her mother.

"MOMMA!"

But she was gone.

_'I'm lost!' _Avalina thought in panic. _'I'm lost and I don't know where Momma is. What am I going to do? I'm lost, I'm lost, I'm lost!"_

The crowd was packed even tighter now than before, and Avalina couldn't see, couldn't breathe. . .weakly, she tried to fight the crowd, tried to get loose. . .but she just couldn't.

Things were starting to get fuzzy, and she realized that she had never felt so hot or thirsty in her life. Her throat ached from screaming, and her eyes blurred with tears.

The crowd surged suddenly, someone shoving her out of the way. She fell hard to the ground, and was immediately stepped on.

Screaming in pain, she fought to get up, but there were so many people. . .

_'How do they not see me?' _She thought in terror. _'I'm right here!'_

With a colossal effort, she managed to get to her feet.

After an unknown amount of time, (It felt like hours) Avalina managed to break free from the mob of people and stumble onto another street that was mercifully empty.

She stood there, panting in exhaustion, tears streaming down her face, shaking in fright, staring at what she had just broken free from.

She could breathe and see now, but there wasn't much to see, and her mother was gone.

Fighting another wave of sobs, she looked down the other end of the street, and saw the top towers of the castle, standing tall above anything else in sight.

_'The castle,' _she remembered. _'Momma said to go to the castle if we ever get split up.'_

Taking a deep breath and straightening her shoulders, she headed in that direction.

It took longer than she could have possibly imagined. The castle was a lot farther away than she thought, and her feet were killing her. Not to mention she was very thirsty.

As she drew near, there was some sort of racket going on in a large pen off to the right, and there seemed to be quite a crowd.

Not bothering to go near the castle gates, she went to the crowd instead, wondering what it was that was causing so much racket.

There actually wasn't that many people, now that she was closer. Maybe a couple dozen or so.

Squeezing in between them and getting close to the rails of the pen, Avalina's eyes widened at the scene that was unfolding inside.

* * *

**Just a quick note for ya'll. Mitternacht actually means Midnight in German, but Germany and Prydain don't co-exist in the same world, so I scrambled Germany's letters for the random language XD. Also, to anyone that may not have figured it out already, Mitternacht is pronounced Mitt-er-knocked. Another interesting fact ya'll may or may not care about is this. Mitternacht is a song by the German band E Nomine. I think they're pretty decent for the most part. That's where I got the idea for the horse's name XD.**

**REVIEW! :D**

**Also, I got my 100th review today! XD And I'm 8 views from 1100! O_O How did that happen? XD**


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

Avalina gripped the rails as she saw the biggest horse she had ever seen in her life fighting a group of men inside the enclosure.

She could only stare.

He was huge, and black, and seemed to fill half the pen. Kicked up dust and a few men occupied the rest. They were trying to subdue him, but to no avail. He continued to rear and plunge about, fighting with all his strength.

He sported at least four loops around his head and neck, each one attached to a different rope, and each rope attached to three different men, who were apparently trying to hold him still.

It wasn't working. The massive animal dragged them all around as if they weighed nothing, snorting and biting. All the men were shouting, and Avalina covered her ears at the foul language.

Her eyes grew wide in horror as she saw one man lift a whip in his hand. He was going to hurt him!

She opened her mouth to yell at him to stop, but dust promptly swept down her throat and choked her.

Unable to do anything, she could only watch, tears flowing from her eyes, as the whip came down over the horse's black coat. Again and again.

The horse had had more than enough. Wrenching his head around, he grabbed one of the ropes in his teeth and snapped it clean in half, before leaping high in the air, every leg going in a different direction. His mane and tail rose up to rest in midair as his legs came back under him in flawless ease, the ropes floating in the air as well as he descended into the dust cloud again.

The scream of one of the men was heard, before one came flying out and hit the rails of the pen opposite of Avalina. He crawled through just in time before the horse's head snaked out of nowhere and snapped shut less than an inch from the man's legs as he scrambled over the fence. Another crawled out and hobbled swiftly to the other side of the pen and climbed over.

The whip cracked several more times, earning a shrill whinny from the horse, before all the men quit and ran for the rails in every direction.

The entire crowd backed up, Avalina with them, as they came clambering over the rails as fast as they could go, before the massive black animal stepped out of the dust cloud and stared condescendingly down at them, his eyes wild in hate as he took them all in.

Avalina felt the creature's eyes on her, although they were mostly hidden under that thick black forelock. They glimmered slightly in malice as the animal held the crowd temporarily frozen.

"Men, its no use," a voice came from the crowd said. "There's just too much savage in him."

Everyone turned to who was speaking, and Avalina took the man in.

He was possibly the handsomest man she had ever seen, but for some reason she felt instantly afraid of him. He did not wear the dusty, sweat-stained clothes of the other men, but was rather welldressed and gave off an air of faint superiority that Avalina did not like.

The crowd hummed in excitement or outrage as the man spoke again.

"Bring the lance."

_'Lance? What for?'_ Avalina thought, puzzled. _'How will a lance help?'_

When she saw the man carrying a long wooden lance toward the pen, the sight of the massive spearhead on the end glinting in the sun, it clicked.

_'He's gonna kill him!'_ She thought in horror as he leaped effortlessly over the fence.

The horse, immediately seeing the weapon, took his battle stance across from the man.

For a moment, neither of them moved as they tried to stare each other down.

Avalina pushed her way through the crowd to the front again as the man walked toward the horse.

The horse raised his head and laced back his ears, backing around in the opposite direction, eyes never leaving the lance or the one that bore it, watching every move.

The man drew his arm back, and with a grunt, threw the massive thing.

Avalina gasped as the horse ducked his head right at the last second, the lance going over his ears to embed into the ground at an angle.

Avalina swore she heard the horse give a snort of triumph as he sprang at the man, who ran screaming from the pen. Just as he got out, however, the lance came out of nowhere and raked down the horse's side.

The horse screamed and whirled around, nothing but a storm of black, to lay infuriated eyes on the other man who had thrown it, before charging him as well.

Blood fell onto the dusty earth as the other man ducked out of the arena, out of the horse's reach, just as the lance came out of nowhere and nicked the horse's hip.

Roaring in rage, the horse turned and charged the welldressed man again, who was well out of the pen by this time, just as the other threw the lance again.

"Stop it!" Avalina cried, unable to keep silent any longer, "You're hurting him!"

This drew everyone's attention, much against Avalina's will, but she was too upset about the horse to be very embarrassed.

"Get lost, kid!" The welldressed man said harshly, before doing a double take. "What is SHE doing here? Somebody, get rid of her, this isn't no place for street urchins."

"I'm not a street urchin!" Avalina shouted angrily at the man. "I'm a girl and you're mean!"

This caused a torrent of laughter from everyone in the crowd, promptly making Avalina flush, but she figured that while she had the floor she might as well use it.

"How could you be so cruel to that horse?" She shouted. "Its a living creature too!"

The crowd promptly got quiet, turning towards the man in front of Avalina. She saw his eyes darken.

"You shouldn't talk about things you know nothing of!" He snarled at her, making her back up as he approached.

A hand gripped Avalina's shoulder and she jumped in terror, trying to leap forward, but the grip held tight.

Turning her head up, she saw the roughest looking man she had ever seen.

His face was lined and leathery, his gray hair was pulled back in a small ponytail and a hard line was his mouth. His eyes however, were pale blue and bitter, although not necessarily unkind.

"Leave the girl be, Arwel, before I order You taken out," he bit out, pulling Avalina closer to him in a protective gesture.

The welldressed man, who Avalina assumed was Arwel, sneered openly.

"You couldn't take out straw on a good day, old man."

"Ye watch yer mouth, young 'un, or I'll punch it in for ya."

Avalina, although intimidated by this man, tugged his sleeve.

"Please don't let them kill him, mister!" She said, tears building up again. "Please?"

The older man pulled her to the side and knelt down to eye level with her, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Kid, you don't understand all the trouble that horse has put us through," he told her. "Ain't ye ever heard of Marwolaeth, or Diafol Ceffyl?"

Avalina shook her head. "No, what's that?"

"Ah, o' course ye wouldn't," he groaned. "Ye ain't from around here. It means Death, or Devil Horse, kid, and you're lookin' at him," he told her, gesturing toward the pen.

"That thing's a man killer if I ever saw one. He can't be tamed or touched, let alone ridden. He's hurt so many people I've lost count. He nearly killed three."

Avalina stared over at the horse in the arena, standing in the center, his head up, watching for any that would dare to challenge him.

"If ya'll weren't so mean to him, mister, he wouldn't do that," she told him accusingly, glaring.

The man sighed.

"We weren't at first, kid. That horse got nothin' but the best o' treatment from his rider."

"What happened?"

"The rider was a knight, kid, and he died. The horse's been unmanageable ever since. We've tried every method there is, but nothin's worked, and if the horse won't accept another rider, it would be merciful to put the thing out of his misery. He's sufferin' somethin' terrible."

Avalina slowly turned from the man and walked up to the corral, watching the animal.

Now that the men weren't harassing him, the hatred she had felt in the air wasn't so strong, and underneath she could feel such a deep undercurrent of pain that she felt herself tear up again.

For a moment, the animal turned to her, and slowly flicked his ears forward, the first time they had not been pinned back flat, until the old man came up beside her. The horse promptly laced back his ears again and stamped a warning.

In a flash Avalina had turned back to the man. "You can't let them kill him! Please!"

"Kid, I ain't got no authority over that."

"Autho-what?"

"It means I can't do nothin'."

"There's gotta be somebody that can!"

"Somebody who can what?" A new voice spoke up.

Everyone turned to see who the speaker was, and instantly the mood changed from dark to reverent.

"Good afternoon, King Gwydion," the older man by Avalina said.

"I was just explanin' to the kid here why you ordered the horse destroyed."

"You *ordered* it?" Avalina asked in shock.

"Shut up, kid!" The older man said harshly. "Yer speakin' to royalty!"

Stunned and embarrassed, Avalina stammered out a terrified apology, but the king held his hand up.

"Take the horse to the stables," he said firmly, "We'll deal with it later."

Turning back to Avalina, he said, "Now, what are you doing here, all by yourself, miss?"

It was then that Avalina remembered her current situation and her mother.

After explaining everything, the king nodded once.

"Well, I'm not letting you just stay out here by yourself. Do you like horses?"

Avalina nodded eagerly. "Yes, Your Majesty, but I've never been close to one or anything."

The king nodded, a faint smile on his lips.

"Meuric, take her to the stable to see the horses. The guards will be ordered to watch for her mother when she arrives."

The elderly man, who was obviously Meuric, looked faintly disgusted at the idea, but he did not dare refuse the king.

"Aye, sir," he said with a bow, "It will be done," before taking Avalina's arm and steering her in the direction of the stable.

"Now look kid, you do exactly as I say," he told her irritably, before grumbling to himself, "Of all the stupidest jobs, I get stuck with babysitting."

Avalina bit her tongue and did not say a word.

* * *

**Marwolaeth and Diafol Ceffyl really do mean Death and Devil Horse in Welsh. Just throwin' that out there. . .Don't forget to review! XD**


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

Avalina was entranced by all the horses. There were so many! Lined wall to wall, in every color imaginable, she stared and stared at them, drinking everything about them in. Their appearances, their scent, everything. She went up to every single one and got to rub most of their muzzles when they stuck them over the door, sniffing her over to search for treats or out of curiosity.

She didn't even hear the older man, Meuric, grumbling behind her as she bounced from stall to stall, trying to peek over the high tops of the half doors. She knew better than to move swiftly and not let the animals know she was there, so she made sure to speak to them as she came up to the stalls, gently holding out her hand for them to sniff before she started petting them.

"Are they knight's horses?"

She asked the man eagerly as she gently rubbed the face of a noble looking bay.

"Some of 'em," he replied gruffly.

"Do they have names? What are their names?"

"I don't know, they may not have any." The answer was curt but Avalina scarcely noticed. She turned to him in surprise.

"How come they don't have names? They have to have names!"

"I didn't say they Didn't have names, kid. I said that if they had any, I don't know 'em."

"Oh."

Avalina peered over the top of another door, but she could barely see the paler colored horse's back over the wood. It didn't come when she clucked softly.

"Is this one shy?"

A snort came from Meuric.

"Nah. Just a stubborn git."

Avalina stared at him, her little mouth turning down in disapproval.

"You shouldn't say things like that, mister. You'll hurt her feelings."

Another snort came from the man.

"Horses ain't got feelin's, kid, and they can't understand people."

"Can so!"

Another humph of contempt.

"Kids, think they know everythin'."

Avalina turned back to the stall, trying to peek over. Clucking again, she softly told the horse where Meuric wouldn't hear, "Its ok, I know you have feelin's, just like everyone else. Its ok if you don't want to come out, but I really want to see you. Could you please come over?"

Avalina clucked again, making a gentle tapping noise with her fingers on the door, and this time she saw the horse's head and ears come into sight over the wood.

Cautiously, the horse came closer, before leerily leaning down to sniff the girl's hands, acting as if the slightest wrong move would frighten her away. Avalina smiled happily and murmured something unintelligible as the mare let her scratch her neck, leaning into her touch.

Avalina didn't see the older man watching in surprise from the other side of the hall.

"Say, kid. . .how'd you do that?"

Avalina turned, oblivious to what Mueric had saw.

"Do what?"

"How'd you get 'er to come over?"

Avalina frowned slightly in concentration as she rubbed the mare forehead, who was leaning into the touch like it was the first bit of attention she had gotten in a while.

"I asked her to, mister. That's all."

The man scratched his head, a puzzled expression on his face.

"And how'd you know it was a mare? You couldn't see anything."

"I'm not sure," Avalina replied truthfully. "She just felt like a she."

By now the trainer was looking even more confused and shook his head.

"That horse never comes up to anyone of 'er own accord, not even her rider. And she hates her head bein' messed with, and there you are, lovin' all up on her."

Avalina looked down at the mare, who's head was buried happily in her arms.

"Maybe her head hurts?" She asked innocently. "When my head hurts Momma always puts a cold cloth on it. Which is funny because if my legs hurt, she puts on a hot one."

At this, the man huffed in irritation, before his eyes grew thoughtful, looking at the mare.

"Head hurts, huh?"

Slowly he came over. The mare raised her head up warily, eyeing him with distrust.

"Easy, girl," he told her gently, holding out a hand for her to smell. "I ain't up to anythin'."

Rubbing his hand down her neck, he rubbed back up to her face and carefully cued her to raise her head up some more. Instantly the mare's eyes rolled in unease, and she tried to back up, but the kid's finger's were still in her mane and held her there, despite the fact she could easily drag the girl right over the stall door.

The horse did not move as Mueric slowly rubbed up under her chin, and then behind her ears, before going down her cheek. . .

The horse immediately flinched.

The man turned from gruff to concerned in an instant.

"Easy, girl," he soothed as he slid her halter on that hung by the door and let himself into the stall, "What's wrong?"

The mare immediately pulled her head away from him, eyeing him distrustfully, her ears going back and forth like little speckled flags.

After a few minutes of soothing, he got her head down and, after tying her, gently pulled her mouth open.

A soft swearword followed and Avalina's eyes grew huge at what she was seeing.

The inside of the mare's lips and tongue were cut up in several places, red and raw and angry. It looked pretty bad. Mueric swore again as he let the mare close her mouth and rubbed her neck in a soothing gesture.

Walking out of the stall, he looked pretty mad, and Avalina shrank from him at first.

"What's wrong with her, mister Mueric?"

She tagged after him as he walked down the long hall and into the equally massive tackroom that ran alongside the rows of stalls, searching.

"What're ya looking for?"

The man paused as he came to a rack of equipment that sported the same number as the mare's stall door.

Picking up the bridle, he eyed the bit on it carefully, before swearing again.

"I shoulda known days ago," he muttered, "When she wasn't cleanin' up 'er feed like normal."

Holding it down to her level, he asked, "Do you know what the problem is?"

"I don't know anything about horses or their. . .um. . .tack."

Boy, was she glad she got the right word.

The man turned it so she could see better and pulled it apart so the bit was stretched out to its full length.

"Well, now you can start learnin'. What doesn't look right to ya?"

Avalina studied the leather and metal item in front of her, something off about the bit catching her eye.

It looked. . .funny. It was something she definitely wouldn't want in *her* mouth.

The metal piece that went in the horse's mouth had sharp little jags of metal running the length of it, hardly the size of an underdeveloped corn kernel. Looking closer around the edges, she could see where someone hadn't cleaned it properly, and there was traces of old bloodstains around the crevices in the metal.

"It looks painful," she said, her eyes round. "Did somebody do this on purpose?"

"You bet they did, kid," Mueric said, his eyes cold and hard. Slinging the bridle over his shoulder, he walked back out into the barn.

"What're you gonna do?"

"Have a little chat with the stable manager. Stay here, I'll be back shortly."

He was gone before she could even get a word in.

Going back to the mare, who was still tied in her stall, Avalina tried to comfort her as best she could.

"Don't you worry now, mister Mueric's gonna take care of you," she told the horse kindly as the mare laid her head in Avalina's arms, all too eager to simply be loved.

"I don't think he likes people very much, but he won't let anyone hurt you anymore, I'm sure of it."

A screaming whinny and a crash made them both jump. The mare threw her head up and snorted hard, listening. Avalina froze as well.

After several moments when nothing happened, Avalina tiptoed to the stall door and peeked out. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on, but she decided that she would have a drink from the pump right outside the stable anyway.

"I'll be back," she promised the mare, before slipping out.

After her drink, she realized there was another stable right beside this one.

_'Mueric said to stay here,' _she thought to herself. _'I'm not going anywhere, just to the next stable. One building over, he'll be able to find me easy.'_

Nobody in the busy courtyard noticed her as she unlatched the massive door, and when a huge effort, pushed it open just enough for her tiny frame to fit through, before slipping inside.

She could not get in shut no matter how hard she shoved, so it was left about six inches ajar.

Looking around, she couldn't see why it was shut anyway. This stable looked abandoned. There were no horses in the stalls or anywhere.

_'Its awful empty for a royal stable,' _she thought. _'I know the king owns way more horses than the ones I saw in the other stable, and that was huge!'_

Walking slowly down the hall, she suddenly realized she was hearing something soft and rhythmic. Pausing, she listened.

_'Its only my breathing,' _she thought, feeling a little foolish.

She wondered how quiet this building would be if she held her breath.

Taking a deep one, she held it and listened to the silence. . .

But it wasn't silent. She could still hear something.

_'I'm not the one breathing,' _she realized in surprise. _'There's somebody else in here with me!'_

Her heart suddenly beating faster, she whipped around as a thick rustle of straw was heard, right as a massive black head appeared out of the stall right across from her. Ropes covered its head, blood trickled from a place near its left eye and savage eyes glinted at her under its wild, unkempt mane.

The animal's nostrils flared, the insides looking blood red as they snorted out a fine spurt of dust, staring straight at her.

In this dim lighting it looked like smoke and fire.

Avalina gasped as she took all this in, unintentionally backing up a step, only to stop as her back hit one of the many closed stall doors.

It all happened in an instant, but she knew immediately who he was.

_'Marwolaeth!'_

* * *

**_Review! XD Also, anybody reading this that hasn't checked out the video tribute to this fanfiction, seriously do so! Its awesome! XD Just go to Youtube and type in Horned King and Avalina, it'll be right at the top! ^_^ Since most of ya'll seem so dead set on not reviewing, you can watch the video instead lol!_**


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Avalina stared at him in fright as he pinned his ears at her, glaring at her hatefully over the door, his nostrils flaring.

Remembering what he had done in the corral to all those people this morning, suddenly she felt very small.

She whimpered as he struck the door with his hoof, pressing herself as firmly against the wall as she could. She had a terrible image of him leaping over the door and coming at her.

She could not help but be drawn to his eyes, which glimmered brightly under that hedge of matted black mane. In reality, it was the only bright thing on him. Everything else was dull and dirty.

Avalina looked right into them, those shining pools, and felt the emotion in the movement as he pawed the door again. She felt his hatred of man, felt his rage. But under that mountain of bitter fury that filled him, she felt something else, saw something else reflected in those deep eyes, and it held her attention as she tried to figure out what it was.

It was pain. A torrent of agony that could be seen in his eyes, if she looked deep enough. It was plainly noticeable, and now, having seen it, it was engraved in her mind's eye as he stared at her in hopeless despair, snorting as he snaked his head back and forth.

And this was a feeling Avalina knew, and suddenly she understood.

"I know, boy," she said softly. "My daddy's gone too."

The horse ceased movement at the sound of her voice, his ears coming forward as she spoke, before pinning them again when she stopped.

Seeing this, Avalina spoke again, not wanting his ears to stay back like that.

"I know what its like to lose somebody you care about that much. I'm sorry."

Again, the horse's ears came forward when she spoke, listening.

"I know it hurts, and I know you feel abandoned. I feel the same way, sometimes. But you can't stay mad forever, Momma told me it makes you bad."

At this, the horse pinned his ears again and snapped his teeth, letting them clack loudly against one another as he struck the door again.

Jumping, Avalina kept going, regardless.

"If you'd let somebody in again, they could teach you to be good, like you were before. I know you used to be a knight's horse, and that's the highest honor, other than being the king's mount himself."

The horse weaved agitatedly in his stall, his mane following him like a brush pile.

"You can be that again, if you wanted."

Avalina had not realized she had taken a few steps forward until the horse snorted hard, and Avalina felt the force of it breeze against her face and toss her hair lightly. She was standing in the middle of the hall, well out of his reach, but not as far away as she had been.

She stood there as he weaved back and forth in the doorway, his mane and the ropes following his every move. It looked like they were agitating him.

"I could get those off you," Avalina said softly, causing him to stop and flick his ears towards her again.

"But you'd have to let me first. And promise not to hurt me."

At this, the horse pinned his ears and tossed his head. He felt her fear in the air, and it fueled his angry behavior.

Shivering, Avalina watched him for a second, thinking about what she could do to calm him down. Maybe a song? She sang to the stock at home all the time. Her mother had teased her once that her singing made the crops grow faster, and more than once, her brother had told her to shut up.

"Do you like music, Marwolaeth?" She asked. It was the first time she had ever called him by his name.

The horse swiveled his ears forward again, freezing for a moment.

"This is one I picked up from a book. Momma taught me to sing it. I think it was written by somebody that lost someone close to them."

Taking a deep breath, Avalina softly began, keeping her voice low. It was meant to be a very sad, mournful song anyway, and she felt that the horse would pick up on what the words meant a lot better if she kept the mood in her voice. Plus, she didn't want anyone else to hear her.

"Duele no tenerte cerca (It hurts not to have you near)

duele no escuchar tu voz (It hurts not to hear your voice)

duele respirar tu ausencia, (It hurts to breathe in your absence)

pero, duele más decirte adiós." (But, it hurts more to tell you goodbye)

After the first three lines, Marwolaeth had stopped his weaving in the doorway, and this encouraged Avalina to no end.

"Duele como muerte lenta (It hurts like a slow death)

la memoria de los dos (The memory of us both)

la sangre ardía por mis venas, (My blood was burning through my veins)

pero, hoy se seca sin tu amor." (But, today it runs dry without your love)

By now, the horse's ears had reluctantly came forward to listen, almost as if he were trying to catch what Avalina was saying. Avalina slowly took one step towards him, watching his ears for any sign of regression.

"Miseria (Misery)

vivir rodeado de la melancolía (Living surrounded by melancholy)

en espera de ti, de ti, de ti, y de nadie más (In hope of you, of you of you and nobody else)

Si me llamas voy a tu lado soy (If you call me I'll go, at your side I'll be)

todo por sentir el latir de tu corazón (All to hear the beating of your heart)

si me dices no, yo me parto en dos (If you tell me no, I'll break in two)

prefiero decirte adiós." (I'd rather tell you goodbye)

Avalina took another step closer, watching the horse's body language. He was a little uncertain at this, and seemed to be checking her over, looking for any sign of a weapon she might be carrying. Avalina let her arms rest at her sides, showing him that she had nothing to hide.

"I know it hurts," she told him softly. "Not being able to have him around anymore, not hear his voice, knowing he won't be there for you anymore. Trust me, I know."

Avalina felt her vision grow blurry at this, and she wiped her tears away and swallowed hard. She had to keep singing for a little bit longer. It seemed to calm Marwolaeth, and she wanted him to stay calm. At least until she could get those ropes off. She had noticed that one was biting rather painfully into the bridge of his nose.

"Duele no tenerte cerca (It hurts not to have you near)

duele no escuchar tu voz (It hurts not to hear your voice)

duele respirar tu ausencia, (It hurts to breathe in your absence)

pero duele más decirte adiós." (But, it hurts more to tell you goodbye)

Avalina slowly took another step forward, the horse watching her every move. Carefully, she held out her hand for him to sniff, ready to yank it back if he tried to bite.

The horse blew softly in puzzlement. She was afraid of him, he could smell that, but why wasn't she running from him? Everyone ran from him. In turn, it encouraged him to be nasty. Without his rider, it was the only thing that brought him enjoyment any more. But underneath that fury, he longed for a human's touch again. To feel that someone cared for him again, like his rider has used to do.

Avalina kept her voice quiet as the horse carefully sniffed her hand. She watched for any sign of aggression, but for the moment, there didn't seem to be any. She certainly wasn't going to stop yet, though.

"Duele como muerte lenta (It hurts like a slow death)

la memoria de los dos (The memory of us both)

la sangre ardía por mis venas, (My blood was burning through my veins)

pero, hoy se seca sin tu amor." (But, today it runs dry without your love)

Slowly, she raised her hand and touched the horse's nose. At this, he yanked his head back and pinned his ears, only to swivel them forward again and breathe her scent in. He was clearly conflicted, not really knowing what to do.

"I know I'm not your knight, Mawolaeth," she said softly. "I'm not the one you want. But I could help you, if you'd let me."

The horse shifted his weight and leaned out to sniff her again cautiously. Avalina did not move a muscle as he scrutinized her critically from head to toe. At long last he gave a resigned huff and allowed her to brush her fingers against his muzzle.

"Good boy," she whispered softly, causing Mawolaeth to warily blow against her face.

Gently, she felt around the side of his nose, trying to loosen the knots of that horrid rope halter. It had been pulled so tightly that it bit viciously into his face, not a single hair of room between him and the rope.

The horse yanked his head away the instant she touched the rope, pinning his ears and glaring at her.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she told him. "At least, not on purpose. I'm promise."

It took another ten minutes for her to get the horse to lower his head again and stand quietly as her little fingers fiddled with the halter. She had been fighting with it for several minutes now and the knots showed no sign of budging. She was getting irritated, as was the horse, because everytime she moved the rope or tugged on it, it dug harder into his face and it hurt.

Panting, Avalina gently rubbed his neck as she looked around for anything that might help her get the halter off. The entire stable was practically completely empty, but after digging around in what used to be the old tackroom, she found a very small piece of metal, about the length of her big finger, with a very sharp end.

She would have preferred nearly anything else, but this would have to do.

"Now Marwolaeth," she told him, "The most important thing for you to do right now is don't move at all. Not in the slightest, understand? If I miss and cut you it won't end well. For either of us."

The horse behaved until the scraping of the metal against the rope got to him and he pulled away to see what it was.

And promptly shied from it like the plague.

Avalina could not get the horse back to the door, even after several minutes. He stayed by the far wall, glaring at her. And he would not budge.

The bolt on the door was stuck. She couldn't get it open no matter how hard she pushed. The horse had struck it from the inside so many times the metal bolt had been bent at a crazy angle, preventing the door from being opened. Honestly, Avalina wondered how they had gotten him in the stall in the first place.

Left with no other option, Avalina was forced to hoist herself onto the top of the halfdoor and sit there. The horse laced back his ears again and stamped a warning. She did not dare to drop over and actually get in the stable with him. If he went berserk she would have no way out.

_'Why would he shy from me like that?' _She thought, confused. _'I didn't hurt him.'_

She glanced down at the tiny metal shard in her hand, thinking, before looking back up at him.

"Marwolaeth, how can a big, strong horse like you be so afraid of something so little?" She asked him.

"My momma always says I'm too big of a girl to be afraid of wasps, because they're so little, but I can't help it. They hurt and they scare me! Even if they didn't hurt, I think I'd still be scared of them because they look so creepy."

Avalina glanced down at the shard in her hand again, before it dawned on her.

"Hey. . ."

Studying it more, she noticed it glinted, and every time it caught the light, the horse would stiffen noticeably.

_'The lance they were throwing at him glinted in the sun this morning,' _she realized as she looked back up at him.

"Now I understand, boy," she told him softly. "I'm sorry."

The horse flicked his ears forward as she kept talking.

"But, there's something I don't get. You're a knight's horse, you should be used to big sharp things flying at you all the time. That was your job, that's what you do. Or, what you did, rather."

A tumult of noise came from outside in the courtyard, followed by the slamming of the stable door that Avalina had left ajar when she came in. The sudden noise made Avalina jump so badly she lost her balance on the top of the door and fell facefirst into the straw.

Luckily, the bedding was thick, which prevented her from getting hurt, and she scrambled quickly to her feet as the horse snorted and shied at the far side of the stable, pawing.

The full force of what had just happened hit Avalina hard. She was trapped in a stable with a crazy animal. No way out. She had overstepped the line, and she was in his domain now.

Not wasting a second, she turned back to the door and tried to climb up it, but her boots couldn't get a grip on the smooth wood. . .she fell back to the floor as the horse whinnied loudly, kicking up straw.

Curling up in as small a ball as she could manage, she pressed herself tightly into the corner under the feed trough nailed into the wall as he snorted angrily. Maybe if he didn't think she was a threat he wouldn't do anything. . .

She wanted to scream. Oh, how she wanted to. To call someone to get her out. But from what she had witnessed, the horse seemed to only get angrier around loud noises, and she knew that if she started, he could kill her before anybody would come.

Shivering, trying not to cry, she kept her eyes tightly closed as she felt him stamp about, praying that he wouldn't come over here.

How long she stayed like that, she didn't know. After a while, the horse quit throwing a fit and she dared to crack her eyes open a tiny bit.

Marwolaeth was still standing there, on the opposite side of the stall, watching her like a hawk, but the first thing she noticed was that his ears weren't flat against his head, like they had been before. They were still laid back, but not in a raging fury. It looked more like sullen irritation.

Slowly, she got to her feet, watching him as he watched her. Avalina was almost afraid to speak, but she did so anyway.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she told him softly, scarcely above a whisper, slowly holding her hand out to try and entice him to come.

"I want to help you. Won't you let me help you? Please?"

The horse's ears came forward again, listening.

"I promise, I'm not trying to trick you."

Silently, the horse and the girl regarded each other as the seconds stretched into long minutes.

Finally, Marwolaeth gave a deep sigh, sounding like the bellows of a forge, and reluctantly, as if this was the last thing in the whole world he wanted to be doing. . .

Took a step in her direction. And another. And then three more.

He stood in front of her, staring down for a moment, like a king would a subject, before gracefully lowering his head to her hands, allowing her to touch him.

"Good boy," Avalina whispered, trying to contain the joy her little heart was filled with.

"Good boy."

* * *

**The song is "****Adiós" by **Jesse y Joy. Its a beautiful little song, and I thought it fit here pretty well. Another reason that its here will be explained later.

**Don't forget to review! :D**


	61. Chapter 61

Chapter 61

Marwolaeth stood quietly as Avalina carefully sawed through the ropes and took them all off piece by piece, tossing each one out into the hall when she was finished.

As the last one came free he snorted in victory, and Avalina herself heaved a sigh of relief.

"Good boy, Marwolaeth," she said happily, but her relief turned to sympathy as she saw the long thin gashes the rope had made on his face. Most of them were clotted over, but the one across his nose had been reopened when she had removed the rope, and it was bleeding a little.

"I'm so sorry, boy," she told him quietly. "Its not right, a horse. . .any horse, but especially one like you. . .being treated like this."

She could do nothing for his cuts, but she could get those matts in his mane away from them. The horse warily rolled his eyes at her as she began to carefully saw through his mane, trying to take away as little as possible, as she briefly rubbed a hand across the top of his neck to keep him from raising his head.

"You have good training," she observed as she kept cutting. "I don't know much about horses, but surely they have to be trained a long time to keep their head down without a rope, like you're doing now."

The horse stamped and switched his tail, the end of it sweeping across her back, almost as if he agreed with her.

Avalina started about midway down his neck and worked her way down towards his face. It took a great deal of soothing to keep him still as she cleared the matt in his forelock away. The rest of his mane was too high up for her to reach, so this would have to do for now.

Standing back slightly observe her work, she thought he looked almost as bad as before, with gaping holes where his flowing mane should be, but at least he didn't seem agitated by the thick carpet-like matts any more.

Shaking himself thoroughly, he seemed rather glad of the job she had done, no longer hampered by those things hanging on his neck.

"I'm sorry I had to cut your mane up, boy," Avalina told him. "But at least it'll grow back."

The horse sniffed her again as she rubbed his chest, snorting softly in her hair and making her laugh.

"That tickles, Marwolaeth!"

"Kid, what're ye DOIN!?"

The new voice made them both jump, the horse yanking up his head and Avalina turning guiltily to the door to see who was there. 

Mueric stood there, a look of shock and horror on his weathered face, as he took the scene in.

"Kid," he said, softer now. "Don't. . .move."

The horse's ears laced back.

* * *

Mueric had shown the bit to the stable manager, who had inquired as to who it belonged to, and big surprise, it had been none other than Arwel himself.

The stable manager had been furious and no doubt would have had the man burned at the stake on the spot, but the king had been informed and he had promptly stripped Arwel of his knighthood, saying that no man, even if he wasn't a knight, could be called a man if he treated his mount that way.

Arwel had not been too happy about it and caused quite a scene in the courtyard, before leaving in a great huff.

The king himself had thanked Mueric for his observation on the matter, and the old man had been forced to admit that it was the peasant girl that had drawn his attention to it first. The king had been impressed and ordered her brought to him so he could thank her personally.

The entire ordeal had taken a great deal of time, and by the time Mueric returned to the stable, the girl was no longer there.

_'Typical,'_ he grumbled irritably to himself. _'Can't leave 'em for any length of time.'_

He had checked with the guards to see if her mother had came by and taken her, but they hadn't seen anyone.

Grumbling, Mueric went back to the stable and started searching, saying in a loud, irritated voice that if she was playing hide-and-seek, it wasn't funny.

Fuming, he stepped outside to think, and his eyes fell on the other stable. The one that held Diafol Ceffyl.

_'She wouldn't be in there,'_ he argued with himself, but his memory begged to differ.

'That door was ajar when Arwel was dismissed, and someone slammed it shut again,' he remembered, before suddenly feeling a chill. The door was bolted from the outside, which meant if the girl had wandered in there. . .she would have no way out, and the walls were so thick. . .no one could hear a little girl screaming for help unless they were right outside the building. . .

In a flash Mueric was running as fast as he could across the courtyard as he remembered the incident this morning.

_'The kid took a fancy to that crazy animal,'_ he remembered in horror.

As he unbolted the door he forced himself to be quiet with the grim thought that if the horse had savaged her to death, he couldn't help her anyway.

Easing the door open quietly, he readied himself for a horrible scene. . .but there was nothing.

Nothing except talking coming from about halfway down. It sounded like her. . .

Tiptoeing, he came down to one of the stalls, noticed chunks of rope and matted black mane all over the floor, and in puzzlement he peeked inside. . .

To see something that nearly gave him a heart attack.

The little girl was there, laughing as the horse blew on her face, looking almost playful, and the words of disbelief escaped him before he could help it.

* * *

An eerie change came over the horse, and the atmosphere suddenly darkened. The horse laced his ears back and tossed his head in a challenge at the old man, and Avalina suddenly felt afraid again as she looked up at Mueric's face.

"Kid. . ." He said quietly, speaking very softly, "Walk toward me. . .slowly. I'll help you over the door."

Avalina slowly came forward, all the darkness in the air scaring her.

Marwolaeth stamped and whinnied angrily, both front feet coming off the ground at once as he threatened the man.

Unfortunately, this made Avalina jump forward in fright as she felt his feet connect to the floor, and in a flash Mueric had hoisted her quickly over the door and set her down in the hall.

Marwolaeth snorted angrily and whinnied his disapproval as he came up to the door, alternating between swiveling them forward at Avalina and back at Mueric, before slamming against the door and snaking out his head in an attempt to bite the old man, who was already well out of his reach and was dragging Avalina down the hall as fast as he could go, not listening to her protests.

The horse screamed loudly as they disappeared through the courtyard door.

Mueric released Avalina as he shoved the stable door shut as tightly as possible, before rounding on her.

"Just what do you think you were doin,' kid?"

Avalina shrank from his wrath.

"Nothing! You told me to stay at the stables!"

"He coulda *killed* ye!"

"But he didn't!"

"Yer darned lucky he didn't bash yer skull in."

"But he Didn't!"

The old man swore under his breath and made an irritated motion. "The king wants ye. Come on."

Tagging behind him, Avalina fought down a tremble. "What's he want me for?"

"You'll find out. And if ye know what's good for ye you'll stay away from that horse. . .make that any horse. . .without permission. He's nothin' but trouble!"

"He wasn't to me!"

"Shut yer mouth, young 'un, or I'll do it for ye."

Avalina, shivering, said no more.

Miserably she followed Mueric to the opposite side of the massive courtyard, where a group of men stood in discussion over something.

"Yer Majesty," Mueric said respectfully, causing the group to part for him, "I've brought the girl."

Avalina temporarily paused in her walking, awe and more than a little fright creeping over her as she saw them all walk away.

The King of all Prydain stood in front of her, looking every inch of his title. A golden crown sat on top of his short golden hair and his eyes were a deep brown. She hadn't been able to get a very good look at him this morning.

"So, this is the peasant that does a much better job than my grooms," he said, a twinkle in his eyes as he looked her over.

Suddenly feeling very small, Avalina shook out in a frightened voice, "I didn't mean to be t-tellin' you what to do. . ."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mueric making a frustrated hand gesture, obviously trying to be as discreet as possible.

Avalina understood quickly with a start.

"O-oh! I'm s-sorry," she stammered out, bowing from the waist, "I-I didn't mean. . ."

"Think nothing of it," the king's voice answered her, and as she looked up she realized with a jump he was right in front of her, "Formality is not expected of someone your age, especially when they do not know the rules."

Avalina timidly looked up at him, straightening as she did so, searching his face with her eyes. He seemed to be alright, but she could not help being timid in his presence.

"I hear you brought Mueric's attention to the horse," the king said, smiling slightly down at her. "You told me this morning you've never been close to horses. Did you enjoy your time in the stable?"

"Y-yes, your Majesty," she replied politely, trying to meet his gaze as well as she could and attempting to remember what her mother had told her about manners. "I did so, very much, th-thank you."

"I must thank you," King Gwydion said, a sincere look on his face, "For alerting me to the fact of one of the horses being ill used. If a knight can't take care of his horse then he has no business being one."

"Sire?" Mueric asked respectfully from the side as Avalina blushed.

The king gave a short nod in permission for him to keep speaking.

"When I went back to get her, she was. . .in the stable with Diafol Ceffyl."

The king's face changed drastically, and Avalina's heart pounded in fear.

"I-I'm sure the kid didn't mean anythin' by it, Yer Highness," Mueric managed out hastily, "She didn't know no better. But no one got hurt."

The king turned back to her.

"Is that true?"

His gaze settled on her, and Avalina barely managed out her affirmative.

"And you're. . .alive?"

The shock in his voice caused Avalina to risk looking fearfully up at him.

"Y-yes sir."

"But how did you keep him from hurting you?"

The disbelief in his voice prompted her to speak.

"I. . .I don't know," she said truthfully, "I just asked him not to."

The king looked even more puzzled for a moment, before turning away from her and beckoning to Mueric.

"Pardon me a moment."

The two men walked far enough away where she couldn't hear them and began an earnest debate, casting glances in her direction.

After several, several minutes, they came back and Avalina braced herself, trying not to let her heart beat too fast.

"What is your name, miss?" The king asked, looking down at her with an odd expression.

"Avalina, your Highness."

"How long were you in the stable with the horse before Mueric came?"

Avalina frowned slightly, trying to remember.

"I don't know Sire, but it was a long time."

"And you were in the stall with him?"

"Yes sir."

"What did you do?"

"I. . .I don't know," Avalina stammered out, embarrassed that she wouldn't know what the king had asked of her. "I-I'm sorry."

The king noticed the puzzled, questioning look on Avalina's face and elaborated.

"Do you know why I am so surprised at this?"

"No sir."

"Well, Avalina," he finally answered, "That horse has been untouchable, unapproachable, and downright life-threatening for two years. And then you just go in and, by Mueric's phrasing, treat him like an old riding pony, and he just stands there and lets you. Is that correct?"

"Um. . .Well sir, he had to be convinced I wasn't carrying a weapon or something first."

"Be convinced?"

"Yes sir. And he had to decide whether to trust me or not."

"I see."

After he looked her over carefully, he spoke again.

"The reason I ask these things, Avalina, is because I have to ask you a very important question."

At this, he sat down on a bench and offered her to come sit beside him. Shyly, she did so.

"I would truly hate to destroy such a beautiful animal," he told her, the sincerity evident in his eyes.

"He is a very fine horse, and I hoped to ride him myself one day, but his behavior has made even keeping him impossible. The life he is currently leading is not fitting for him."

At this, the king's eyes softened.

"And that is why I would like to ask you, Avalina, if you would like to gentle him for me."

Avalina's eyes widened as she heard Mueric give a small sound of protest.

"Me?" She squeaked.

King Gwydion chuckled softly. "Yes, you. Since no one else can even get close to him, my options are rather limited. You will be paid well for your service, I assure you."

The wheels in Avalina's head were spinning madly as such an offer, thinking ninety miles an hour. Oh, how she wanted to accept! She longed to tell him yes on the spot, but with a very slight shake of her head she declined.

"Can I wait til my momma gets here?"

The king blinked, as if remembering something.

"Oh, of course. Your mother will be informed of this."

At that moment, a guard walked up and said, "Sir, a woman's at the gate asking for "Avalina?"

The king nodded.

"Send her in."

* * *

**Don't know why I keep putting the Review reminder down here, most of my readers ignore it. . .but to the people that do take the time to leave a review, I thank you from the bottom of my heart:) You guys are awesome!**


	62. Chapter 62

Chapter 62

After a relieved reunion between Avalina and her mother, a very, very long conversation with her mother and the king followed, while Avalina listened with wide eyes as they discussed her immediate future.

It took the king and Avalina combined to get her mother to agree to it, but in the end, her mother really had no choice in the matter, as her child's employer was in fact, the king himself.

King Gwydion wasted no time in arranging things.

Avalina had asked him if she could take the horse home and work with him there, so she could be with her family, and to everyone's surprise King Gwydion had agreed to it, telling Mueric he would be going with them and helping her train the animal. Mueric was less than pleased but had no choice in the matter.

And so a large, very high-fenced corral was made on Avalina's property specifically for a horse that was nearly impossible to confine, feed was provided by the royal stable and while things were being set up, they were already in the process of getting the horse to Avalina.

Even at normal circumstances, a trip to the village from Avalina's house was anywhere from two to three days.

It took a dozen horsemen a week to drag Marwolaeth all the way there, and they were all too happy to leave immediately, leaving Avalina, her mother, her brother, and Mueric all standing together awkwardly outside the corral, watching the foaming, raging horse galloping round and round and round.

Her mother quietly went inside, and her brother returned to the field, and Mueric followed shortly after, saying he would deal with the horse later and he might as well earn his keep around here, and then Avalina's mother promptly called for her to come and help.

"Momma, why are you upset?" Avalina asked as she helped with the dishes.

Her mother's drawn face and tight mouth were clear signs of her displeasure. Avalina didn't know why.

"Aren't you happy that I get to train my very own horse?"

Her mother sighed.

"Yes, dear. And. . .no."

"Why?"

Her mother wearily sat down at the table.

"Because I don't want you getting hurt. That horse is dangerous."

"Aren't all animals dangerous, Momma?"

"Well, yes dear. But horses are. . .different in that aspect."

"How?"

Her mother beckoned her daughter to her and gently took her hands.

"Avalina, dear, I want you to promise me you will be very, very careful whenever you are around that horse. He is extremely dangerous, and I cannot believe the king allowed you to try and tame him."

"But Momma, nobody else can touch him but me," Avalina told her. "King Gwydion told me so."

"He doesn't know that. He's only going on the fact that you are the first one to do so. If he had any consideration for your life he would not have done this thing."

"But Momma, Marwolaeth will die if he can't be gentled again. I can't let him die!"

Avalina's eyes filled with tears.

"Avalina, dear, I don't like seeing animals die either," her mother said softly, brushing the tears away from her daughter's cheeks.

"But I will always prefer the animal die over something far more important, any day."

"Momma, he won't hurt me."

Her mother sighed.

"Regardless, I want you to always be careful around him, and do not go in the pen with him unless Mueric is around."

"But he doesn't like Mueric, Momma."

"You heard what I said."

"But Momma, when other people are around he gets worse!"

"Avalina, he's going to have to get used to other people when he goes back to the castle, and he might as well start now."

"After everything they've done to him? Momma, you didn't see what they did!"

"Dear, do you even realize who that horse truly is?"

Avalina scrunched her nose up, trying to remember.

"Mueric called him Diafol Ceffyl. His other name is Marwolaeth. But what did he mean, Momma?"

"Let me explain it to you better, dear. Sit down."

Avalina sat at another chair, turning it to face her mother.

When she was settled, her mother began.

"Once, there was a man that came from a peasant family. But the king found him, and saw in him a fine knight. And so, a knight he became, the finest in all the king's army. No one was more chivalrous than he, and no one could rival him as a horseman. The horse he rode was something he allowed no one else to ride, save himself. But one day, that brave knight was killed in combat, and from that day onward his horse became as he had been before, a raging, furious beast no one could touch. Thus earned he the title of Devil Horse. And he gave nothing but Death to all who dared to try and possess him. He is the equivalent of a demon in these parts, Avalina. Uncountable people have tried to tame him, and all have failed."

"Marwolaeth's that well known around here?" Avalina asked in surprise.

"His knight was. When word of his death became known, the tales of his horse's rage soon followed."

Avalina had caught a sadness in her mother's eyes, and this prompted her to interrupt her.

"Momma, who was the knight?"

Her mother's jaw worked.

"He was my brother."

Avalina's eyes grew round.

"You mean. . .my uncle? My uncle was a knight?"

Her mother nodded.

"You never told me you had a brother, Momma!" Avalina cried, disappointed. "What was he like?"

Her mother's eyes moistened.

"He was the best knight. . .and the best horseman. . .I've ever known."

Avalina sat for a moment, puzzling over this, while her mother wiped her eyes with the corner of the dishtowel. She opened her mouth to ask something else, but held her tongue when she saw her mother's distress.

More questions could wait.

"I'm sorry, Momma," she said sympathetically. "I bet he was brave."

"He was. Gracious, here I am, telling stories when there's work to be done. Come on, finish those dishes! I'll be feeding an extra mouth until the horse is trained."

"Yes Momma."

* * *

Mueric found out about three minutes after he went to help the boy in the field (Arran, was it?) that this family was too poor to afford a horse. They used an ox to plow with. It was painfully, painfully slow, but at least it moved.

Mueric was silently fuming to himself as he worked. He had advised the king plainly not to do this.

_'Sire, that horse is a mad animal, he's insane, he's not all there,'_ he remembered telling him. _ 'That little girl's going to get killed if you order what I think you're about to order.'_

_'I don't think so, Mueric,'_ the king had told him. _ 'There's something about that girl the horse took a fancy to, or he never would have allowed her to approach him like she did. This is no coincidence. She may be that animal's only hope, and I believe that, despite her age, she will be the best for the job.'_

_'But Sire, what if you're wrong and she dies?'_

The king had looked very thoughtful for a moment, before answering.

_'I'm not wrong here. You can call me a heartless king if you want, Mueric, but there's just something I can't put my finger on about that horse. I think the little girl may have an inkling of what it is, although she may not have a clue that she does. If the way she handled that skittish mare this morning was any indication, she's got quite a way with horses.'_

'But Sire,' Mueric had said, trying to keep his temper, _'She is a Child. Can't you find someone older?'_

_'I think the horse has had his fair share of adults handling him,'_ the king answered. _'But nonetheless, your plan makes sense. You can help her train him.'_

And so had he gotten roped into this.

The horse may have liked her, but that was still no basis for what the king had done in Mueric's opinion. He didn't want to see another family ripped apart by a member's death. The war had done that to enough people already, and as far as he could see, it might have touched this family too, but he sure wasn't going to ask. The absence of an older male in the house was a a subtle indication.

The peasants didn't want him here, he had picked that up immediately. The king had all but dumped him and a wild horse on their doorstep, expecting them to fix his problem.

He didn't blame them for not liking him. He didn't want to be either.

Despite this, there was no outward hostility toward him thus far, and he was determined to keep it that way by doing the best his old bones could do to earn his keep around the place.

* * *

Gaenor would never allow her child to see just how deep her distress ran, and after a while she had her sent outside to play while she finished. She wanted to be alone with her thoughts for a while.

The idea that the king would do this infuriated the woman. Avalina was a ten year old girl. Ten! And the king had treated her like a professional horse trainer, an adult even, allowing her to come home while she trained the animal instead of staying at the castle. That was the only thing Gaenor was happy about.

She had seen that horse in combat, she had seen him on the battlefield and in the training yards, she knew just how savage he was. He was a war horse, and only suited for war. He had no business being re-used in the way the king wanted, as a riding mount for himself. He had fought his fight, he should have been put down two years ago when it became apparent no one else could use him, now that her brother was dead.

The woman fought back tears. And now, her ten year old child, her only daughter, had been tasked with the job of taming this savage animal. It couldn't be done. It was impossible. It was very likely Avalina would get hurt or even killed. But the king had given her the responsibility anyway. Why? To fulfill his own desire. And no amount of money he paid them would change her opinion of him, especially if her daughter was hurt in any way.

Gaenor angrily wiped a plate and set it down with more force than usual.

What kind of a king was he, if he did something like that? What sort of a man would even think of allowing this?

And to top the whole thing off, he had sent yet another mouth to feed. As if Gaenor didn't have enough problems.

_'This isn't right,'_ she thought furiously to herself, a loud whinny echoing into the house.

Looking out the window, she saw the black horse, still pawing and raging around the massive, high corral, with Avalina standing a few feet from the rails, watching him through the spaces.

Gaenor stiffened, about to call Avalina away, but kept her mouth shut for now. Avalina would have to get in the pen sometime with him sometime, and Gaenor would save her tongue for then. As long as her daughter didn't get any closer to the fence.


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

**The wind of Heaven is that which blows between a horse's ears._Arabian Proverb**

In the days that followed, Marwolaeth refused to allow anyone in the corral with him, just as Avalina had expected, after listening to Mueric talk. He was on unfamiliar ground, surrounded by unfamiliar people, and neither party wanted anything to do with each other.

Avalina would call to him whenever she passed his pen, and he would swivel his ears up to listen, but other than that, there had been no response. She understood he was nervous and anxious, being in a strange place, but she was determined to make him comfortable. She took care of his feeding herself, hauling the buckets of feed and water out to him in the morning, along with some hay at night. He would watch her in interest as she did so, his ears coming forward, watching her every move, clearly not unfriendly, but he refused to approach her, and Mueric told her that until he did, she could not go into the pen.

"That's his territory now," he had told her. "And until he wants to share, you'd better keep your distance."

Avalina took to visiting Marwolaeth at night, when everyone else was sound asleep, and no one could spy on them. She never bothered with a light for fear of waking someone up, but she didn't need one. She knew this place by heart, whether she had a moon or not to guide her.

Leaning against the rails, she would talk to him, telling him about her day, about her family, or why she hadn't gone into the pen yet. Sometimes she would sing, very softly of course. The horse would raise his head and listen, watching her. Whenever she tried to walk around to the part of the corral he would be on, he would casually walk away to the other side of the pen.

"You ought to be used to this by now, Marwolaeth," she told him one night, leaning against the fence. "Its been nearly a week already."

The horse listened, his eyes glimmering softly in the light of the half-moon.

"You trusted me in the royal stable. Why won't you trust me now?"

The horse switched his tail, almost in an offended manner.

"Maybe you're not ready to start yet?" Avalina asked him.

The horse lowered his head slightly, as if ashamed.

"There's nothing to apologize for if you're nervous," Avalina said. "I was really nervous when Momma started teaching me to read. All those symbols on the paper looked so scary! I didn't know what they meant at first, and I was really worried about it, until Momma showed me just how easy it was. So now I can read all on my own, and what I thought was scary is actually really fun!"

The horse watched her in interest.

"So just because the idea of something new might be scary, doesn't mean that the new thing is scary by itself. You're just making it intimidating in your own head. That's what Momma says, anyway."

Avalina shifted her feet.

"So, won't you please come over?"

After a few moments, Avalina softly began to sing the song she had sang to him the first day they had met. The horse listened intently, but unable to hear her clearly, took a couple steps forward to hear. Avalina slowly lowered her voice more and more throughout the course of the song, repeating it several times, until gradually the horse had worked his way right up to the fence, just out of her arm's reach.

"Marwolaeth, I promise, I'm not going to hurt you," Avalina said softly, "I just want to help you. Please, please. . .let me help you. They say you can't ever be gentled again, but you know what I think? I think you could learn to be. But you have to want to first, boy. You can stay in depression for the rest of your life, but it won't change anything at all. If you move forward and at least aspire to be happy, you might surprise yourself. Won't you give yourself another chance? Can't you give *me* a chance?"

The silence stretched out between them when Avalina finished talking, both of them looking at one another, waiting.

Finally, the horse gave a soft snort, and cautiously took a step forward, and then another, until his his muzzle came up against Avalina's hand.

"Good boy, Marwolaeth!" Avalina cried softly, feeling her eyes sting with happiness. "It wasn't that hard, was it? Oh, good boy!"

_*Spanish lullabies under moonlit skies_

_We found love there.*_

As the nights went on, Avalina discovered that Marwolaeth liked to play, and she would race him round and round the pen, she on the outside, he on the inside. Sometimes she would change direction so fast her feet would throw up clouds of the earth, and the horse would snort happily and paw too, before leaping about after her. To someone watching them, it may have looked very much like the two of them were performing an odd sort of moonlit dance. A dance with no name and no rules, except maybe to see how much dust they could stir up.

_*Dancing in the sand_

_Walking hand in hand_

_Both without a care.*_

The horse's dark mood seemed to lift during these playing sessions, and it reflected during the days as Mueric began showing Avalina how to correctly halter and lead the animal. Mueric had to stand several yards outside the pen, as the horse refused to work if he was any closer.

"Walk to the sides of him, kid!" He called. "Never directly in front. If he was to spook or take a notion to paw at something he'd run you over!"

Avalina, gripping the lead rope tightly in her hands, walked around inside the pen, the horse walking steadily beside her, his ears pricked up and his head swinging slightly to match his hoofbeats.

Grinning in triumph, Avalina turned him about on command from Mueric, and then gently tapped his chest with the end of the rope and firmly ordered, "Back, back."

The horse stopped, and at Avalina's urging, obediently backed up several steps, watching her for more commands.

"Whoa."

Marwolaeth stopped, his ears pointed towards her.

"You're such a good boy!" Avalina praised as she came up to him and rubbed his neck and shoulders. "You're a good boy!"

The horse blew happily, nuzzling her hair and making her laugh.

_*You're the only one who matters_

_And the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

Mueric stood and watched, scratching his head. In the two weeks the horse had been here, he had shown far more improvement than the old man would have ever expected of him in twenty years. They worked with him a few hours every day at random intervals, but still. . .this was nothing short of a miracle. It didn't make any sense. That horse that was supposed to be untrainable and vicious beyond reason was letting that little girl work him like a real trainer. And love on him like he was an oversized house cat.

The horse had already known all of this, Mueric knew. That horse had done the same exact thing with his previous rider, and it had been the knight that had originally trained him. Mueric and the girl were just helping him to remember everything he may be a little rusty on, after not working for over two years.

"That's enough for today!" Mueric called to her. "Let him get some rest now."

Avalina obediently slid the halter off the horse's head and rubbed his muzzle.

"Thank you," she whispered softly.

The horse followed her up to the rails, and she petted him again and gave him a little kiss before sliding happily out of the corral.

"I'll see you later!" She called to him, as he whinnied and started galloping around the perimeter of the corral, stopping suddenly and mock leaping in her direction, before throwing his head and rocketing to the other side of the enclosure, where he stood, pawing.

_'I'll play with you later, boy,' _Avalina thought. _'I can't when the adults are around, they'd have a fit.'_

As the third week rolled in, Mueric began showing her how to lunge Marwolaeth and groom him.

Grooming was an interesting challenge. Marwolaeth insisted on checking every single grooming tool out before allowing Avalina to touch him with them.

"Marwolaeth, its just a brush," Avalina told him, letting him sniff the object. "Now stop being silly."

The horse rolled his eyes at her, but eventually relaxed, even going so far as to cock a back leg.

Mueric watched in disbelief as the horse stood, every muscle at ease, his head lowered, his ears lax. . .the very picture of relaxation and contentment. He stood, ground tied, as Avalina ran her brush firmly down his sides and shoulders, standing on an overturned bucket so she could reach his back, saying things the old man couldn't hear from this distance.

Movement caught his eye and he looked over at the kitchen window, where he saw the mother, Gaenor, watching the duo in the corral.

For a moment the woman looked frightened, almost ready to rush out and stop them, and he readied himself to interfere if she tried. Any sudden noise or movement could cause the horse's good mood to instantly vanish, and with the girl right in there with him. . .

But Gaenor did not move. For a moment, he thought he saw pain and more than a little wistfulness in her face before she left the window, obviously not going to come out.

Teaching Avalina to groom the horse's tail went over far better than Mueric had expected, and he was so glad that nobody else was around to watch as he coached the girl from outside the corral.

"That's it, pull some out to the side," he called, balling a fist nervously behind his back. "An' brush it gentle. Like you were doin' yer own hair."

Avalina murmured something to the horse and pulled a handful out to the side, talking to him soothingly.

The horse eyed her warily over his shoulder, and Mueric resisted the urge to tell her to just quit. His heart thudded anxiously as the girl gently brushed out the tangles, brushing the horse's rump as well.

Mueric hadn't realized just how tense he had gotten until she was finished. His fist was clenched so tightly his nails were cutting into his palms.

Meanwhile, in the corral, Avalina slipped the horse a carrot chunk, pleased that her midnight practicing was paying off.

"Good boy, Marwolaeth," she told him, scratching his shoulder and trying not to give herself away by grinning too hard.

Tending to his feet was the absolute worst. Over the course of the days and nights, Avalina had accustomed the horse to having his legs and every other part of his body rubbed down and brushed over, but having his feet actually lifted from the ground and worked on was another matter entirely.

Mueric, his stomach turning unpleasantly, had warned Avalina to be extremely cautious. This was the most dangerous part of trying to groom a horse. Any horse. It put the groomer in a very dangerous position.

Avalina came happily up to the horse and brushed him for a while, before working down to one of his front feet.

Remembering what Mueric had told her, she pressed her fingers tightly into the thin vertebrae above the ankle bone and firmly commanded, "Up, Marwolaeth."

The horse, more surprised than anything else, turned around to sniff her back.

"Come on, boy," she panted, trying to hide how nervous she was. "Lift it up."

It took five minutes of backbreaking work on Avalina's part and a great deal of encouragement, before the horse grudgingly shifted his weight to his other legs and lifted his foot up for her.

"Good boy!" She gasped as the sweat ran into her eyes and dripped down her nose.

"Good boy!"

Grabbing the hoofpick Mueric had given her, she carefully began to pry away all the matted up straw and dried manure from inside the hoof.

The scraping against the bottom of his foot startled Marwolaeth, and he blew loudly, setting his hoof promptly back on the ground and eyeing Avalina warily.

Another five minutes later, she had his hoof up again and completely cleaned out, before she gently released and set it down.

Mueric, Avalina and Marwolaeth all blew in relief as Avalina leaned tiredly on the horse's shoulder.

"This had better get easier, Marwolaeth old boy," she told him quietly where Mueric couldn't hear, "Or someone else is going to have to do your feet."

Several night's worth of private practicing later, she was able to easily lift all four of the horse's hooves and clean them while the animal stood quietly, listening to her talk.

_*You're the only one who matters_

_And the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

Mueric couldn't understand how the horse could be improving so fast. It just didn't make sense, even with the hours of training he and Avalina did with him every day. It was like magic.

Avalina happily walked out of the pen after the session, grinning from ear to ear and trying not to look too triumphant.

She was so pleased with the work she and Marwolaeth had been able to accomplish together. Mueric seemed to know everything about horses, and he had told her how to do all the things she needed to know.

The next day, Mueric seemed to be rather drawn, and Avalina asked him what was wrong.

"Kid," he told her after a pause, "Today we're gonna be startin' on our biggest milestone yet."

Avalina knew before he even finished his sentence, and she barely withheld a gasp of excitement when he spoke.

"We're gonna start trainin' the horse to ride."

* * *

**The song bits in this chapter are from Save Me by My Darkest Days. This song is used in my fanfic tribute video Faerydame made because it fits HK and Avalina so well, but I thought some of the lyrics fitted Avalina and Mitternacht as well. XD Review!**


	64. Chapter 64

Chapter 64

"That's it, take it easy!" Mueric called nervously from the sidelines as Avalina, standing on a bucket, tossed a saddle blanket onto the horse's back.

Avalina had let Marwolaeth sniff the blanket over thoroughly, and flapped it in the wind until her arms ached with exhaustion and the horse had finally stopped reacting in a negative manner, before she tried to put it on him.

Marwolaeth did not move as she got off the bucket and tightened the leather strap around his stomach to keep the blanket from falling off. They didn't have a real saddle or anything, but she and Mueric had rigged up something of their own. It didn't look so good, but it served their purpose.

Marwolaeth looked back at himself and stamped, tossing his head, almost acting like he wanted to rear, but Avalina's voice kept him grounded. Barely.

"It's alright, boy, its just a blanket," she told him softly as she untied his halter from the lead. Mueric had told her to let him loose for a minute in case he decided to have a buck or two.

"Do you want to walk?" She asked, walking away from him backwards. "It'll help you get used to it."

Marwolaeth refused to move a single inch for several minutes, and then when he did move, discomfort was obvious in every step he took.

Stiffly, he headed in her direction, stopping several times to look around at himself. It would have been funny if it wasn't for the almost accusing look he gave Avalina.

"Don't look at me like that!" Avalina told him as she curried his neck, slipping him a small bite of apple. "It wasn't even tight! Plus, it was Mueric's idea."

Over the next couple days, Marwolaeth became more at ease with the blanket and small leather girth. Mueric made him wear it everytime they worked, (Several hours every day) and by the third morning the horse was happily following Avalina around, not caring about the object on him.

"When can I get on him?" Avalina asked, jittery with excitement. "Can I do it today?"

Mueric paled a little at her question, looking uncertainly over at the horse.

"We're movin' kinda fast, kid, I don't think that's the best idea."

Oh, how he had been dreading this day. Dreading it above all else. He knew she would ask sooner or later. And oh, how he was dreading it with every bone in his body.

Over the past weeks, he had grown rather fond of the girl, and he didn't want her hurt. And yet, there was a very big chance of that happening when she was allowed to mount the animal. Despite the staggering improvement he had shown, Mueric still didn't trust him. Every time Mueric got too close to the fence he would lace back his ears and act like he would kill him if he ever got in striking distance. Mueric had no doubt that the animal would certainly try.

Despite this, the horse had never offered to hurt the girl, although he had stepped on her by accident one day. Luckily the horse had leaped partially sideways to avoid crushing the girl's foot, so it was only mild bruising. He didn't think she had told Gaenor, and he saw no reason to spill the beans himself.

"But mister Mueric, we've been workin' with him every day! He's shown a whole lot of improvement. Can't we try it today, can we?"

Mueric looked down at her hopeful face and stifled a groan. The kid was right. At the speed and willingness that the horse was improving, there really wasn't any reason to delay it any more. But there was just a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that told him no.

"Please, Mueric, please?"

He rubbed his temples, partially to ease the mild throbbing, but mostly to avoid looking at those eyes. Children seemed to know exactly how to use them to get their way, and Avalina was doing just that.

"Please?"

"Fine." Mueric groaned.

"Yippee!"

Avalina shot toward the stable as Mueric watched helplessly, the little voice niggling at him.

"Now, boy, this will be a breeze!" Avalina chirped to Marwolaeth happily as she slid on the blanket and tightened the strap. The horse had became used to this by now and hardly twitched, although he did turn around to look at her.

Getting the bridle on was no problem, that had been in the groundwork sessions.

Avalina laid the reins over his neck and moved the bucket into position, before untying him and preparing to mount.

"Kid, be careful!" Mueric called, his stomach churning.

'T_his is a bad idea, bad idea,' _the little voice at the back of his head urged as he watched the girl take a fistful of the horse's black mane. _'Call it off, call it off. You still can.'_

_'You're being paranoid,' _another voice grumbled. _'Its going to be fine.'_

_'Not true, not true. . .'_

"Now, Marwolaeth, this is gonna be easy," she told him, although her insides were shaking so hard in excitement she could barely stand up, "Just hold still."

The horse stood quietly as Avalina gripped his mane, and after bracing herself, swung a leg over his back and pulled herself up. Mueric had made her practice on the sawhorse in the barn for this.

The change in the horse was immediate. His barrel swelled, every muscle went taut and his ears went back.

"Steady boy," Avalina told him as he shifted under her, "Its ok."

_'I'm really sitting on a horse!' _She thought happily. _'I'm actually on one!'_

She rubbed his neck in an attempt to ease his fear, but she may as well have touched a statue. There was no response.

"Marwolaeth, are you alright?"

The horse snorted and backed up a step, before shifting sideways to the left, then the right.

"Steady, boy!" Avalina squeaked as he struck the ground once with his front feet. "Steady!"

"KID GET OFF!"

It all happened so fast. . .Mueric saw what was going to happen, but he couldn't open his mouth in time.

An explosion of dust and black horse seemed to fill the very sky as the monster went airborne with a scream of fury.

"No, boy, NO!"

Avalina gripped his mane with all her might, but she felt herself get propelled violently from the horse's back and go airborne, losing her grip on everything.

The only thing that Avalina heard was the raging horse and the screams of Mueric and her mother as the cloud of dust spread over the yard, leaving her clawing blindly at air.

And then everything went black.

* * *

A babble of voices pulled Avalina from unconsciousness as her eyes slowly came open.

She was in her bed in her room, and she could hear Mueric and her mother exchanging words.

"How *could* you let that happen! My baby's been hurt because of you! I refuse to let her near that monster ever again! You can just go straight back to the castle and tell King Gwydion I've had it! He can kill that horse for all I care, and I don't care what he does to me. I'm not letting her go near that animal again!"

Avalina slowly sat up as pain worked its way through her body, stemming from her head and side. This caused her to loose an unintentional cry of pain.

Her mother came in immediately.

"Oh, baby, stay down!" Gaenor told her, easing her back onto the bed. "You need to rest."

Her mother looked terrible. She looked like she'd been crying. Mueric stood at the doorway behind her, guilt and anger written all over his face.

"What happened?" Avalina asked weakly as her mother covered her again with the sheet.

"He threw ye, kid," Mueric said bitterly. "Right into the fence. Yer lucky to be alive."

"Is he ok?"

Mueric and her mother exchanged a shocked look.

"You should be worrying about yourself," Gaenor told her briskly. "Nothing's broken but you have severe bruising on your ribs and the side of your head. Your going to be on bedrest for a while."

"Momma, I'm fine. I need to get back to. . ."

"You're not going near that animal any more," her mother told her firmly. "He almost killed you. I never should have let you in the first place."

"But Momma, he was just. . ."

"I don't want to hear it, Avalina. You're not going near that horse again, and that's final. Mueric will be leaving tomorrow for the castle."

"But Momma. . ."

"Enough, Avalina!" Gaenor snapped, tears building in her eyes. "I've already lost my brother and my husband, and I'm not going to lose my child! Now, get some rest."

As the bedroom door shut, Avalina burst into tears.

_'How could he do this to me?' _She sobbed. _'I thought he trusted me. I thought I could trust him.'_

It was in the early morning hours when she woke again. The house was completely silent, indicating no one was stirring yet.

Avalina groaned as she sat up, waiting until the room stopped spinning before she pulled on her boots.

Only in her nightgown, she carefully maneuvered through the house and out to the corral, forced to use a stout beanpole to lean on.

As she approached the corral, Marwolaeth raised his head and looked at her.

He still wore the bridle, although the blanket was long gone. The strap had been bitten clean in two and lay by his feet. The reins were dusty and dragged the ground.

He eyed her warily as she approached, and backed up when she crawled through the space in the rails.

"Oh, boy, I'm so sorry," Avalina said softly, taking in the betrayed look in his eyes. "I should have known you weren't ready."

Marwolaeth's ears came forward to listen as he looked her over.

"I'm so sorry."

Avalina carefully tried to walk to him, but when she got close he hurried away, stepping sideways to avoid tripping over the reins.

"No!" His body language clearly said. "Stay away!"

"Marwolaeth, you have to listen to me," Avalina told him.

"Mueric's leaving this morning to go to the castle and tell the king to kill you. You have to let me prove to them you're worth saving. I know you are. But why did you throw me, boy? I thought you trusted me."

Avalina felt her eyes burn.

"I thought I could trust *you*!"

The horse, sensing her distress, eyed her from a distance.

"I thought you were my friend, Marwolaeth," she told him as her vision blurred. "Why did you do that to me?"

The pain in her side forced her to her knees in the center of the corral.

"Why?"

Avalina held her side as the tears flowed in earnest. She had been so positive she could trust him, and he had hurt her. Not only physically, but emotionally as well.

Sobbing, Avalina didn't hear him approach until she felt his warm breath brush her face.

Frightened, she froze as she noticed just how close his hooves were. He was right on top of her.

_*You're the only one who matters_

_And the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

Greenish eyes met liquid brown ones as he leaned down to sniff her cautiously.

Avalina saw the guilt in his eyes, the hurt. Mueric and her mother had told her a hundred times that animals couldn't feel, but she knew better. She had always known better.

He felt bad for hurting her, she could just feel it.

"Oh, Marwolaeth," she whimpered as she gently rubbed his face, "I forgive you."

The horse nuzzled her shoulder, gliding the reins right into her palms.

"Let's try this again."

Using his mane, Avalina pulled herself up. Leaning on him, she walked him over to the bucket and stood it up on its end.

The night training now coming into effect, Avalina tapped the crook of his knees lightly, asking him to kneel. In her physical state she couldn't simply swing up on his back, even with the bucket's help.

Marwolaeth obeyed.

"Good boy," she murmured as she scratched his neck, before carefully easing herself onto the bucket.

"Steady now."

Gripping his mane, she paused as a wave of fear washed over her.

_'I can't do this!' _ Her mind cried fearfully. _'I just can't.'_

Avalina was on the verge of just forgetting the whole thing, until Marwolaeth turned his head around to look at her quizzically, as if to ask, "What's taking so long back there?"

_*You're the only one who matters_

_And the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

_'He's gonna die if he can't be rode,' _Avalina remembered. _'I have to try again. Just once more.'_

Summoning all her courage, Avalina carefully eased a leg up, being careful of her side, before laboriously pulling herself up on his broad back.

_'I don't wanna die! Oh, Fates help me!' _She thought fearfully as she situated herself, before tapping his shoulder in the signal to rise.

He did so with a jerk and stood there, switching his tail, before turning around to eye her again.

Avalina saw the guilt in his eyes, plain as day.

"Its alright, boy, we can do this, alright?" She rubbed his neck.

"I know we can."

Gathering the reins in her right hand, holding the mane with her left, she softly rubbed his sides with her heels and gave the soft command, willing herself to stop quivering in fear.

"Walk on."

All the practice in the barn could not have prepared her for the feeling of actually riding a real horse, and at first she gripped him tightly in a panic, afraid of being hurt again.

The thick shoulder muscles rolled under her hands as the separate sides of his back tightened and loosened alternately beneath her legs, followed by his massive hindquarter muscles. It was the strangest thing she had ever felt.

Right, left, right, left.

The steady, slightly swaying motion was relaxing. It was almost like riding a ship at sea, except it swayed side to side instead of going up and down.

Avalina's fear ebbed as she reined him carefully around the corral.

_'I'm riding!' _She thought, her eyes filling with tears again. Only this time, they were tears of happiness.

_'I'm riding!'_

"I knew you could do it Marwolaeth!" She wept as she hugged his neck. "I knew you could!"

The horse snorted in agreement.

_*You're the only one who matters_

_And the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

* * *

Mueric filled himself a cup of coffee, feeling worse than he had felt in a long time.

This whole thing hadn't been right from the start. And it was just gettin' worse. It would break the kid's heart to see the horse die. And frankly, he wasn't looking forward to it either.

"I shoulda knowed that horse was hopeless from the start," he grumbled. "Humph! His very name says so. I was just too much of a fool to listen."

Gaenor's wrath had dimmed slightly from yesterday, and she sat at the table with her own cup.

"Nobody can blame you for hoping, Mueric," she said softly. "I almost hoped myself."

"Almost and actually doin' so's a big difference."

Wearily, Mueric looked out the kitchen window.

"Great Belin. . ."

"What?"

Mueric swallowed, realizing his mouth was hanging wide open.

"Come see."

Gaenor looked out the window and gasped, but Mueric grabbed her arm, preventing her from running outside.

"Don't spook 'im."

Arran came in, ready for the day.

"Mother, what's for breakfast? Mother?"

Arran's eyes grew huge at what he was seeing, as his hat dropped to the floor with a soft swish.

In the corral, a big black horse was walking about, the first rays of the morning sun shining off his coat. The dust in the corral looked gold, making him all the more striking.

And on top of his back was Avalina in her white nightgown, back straight and head held high, turning him with the slightest twitch of the reins.

Mueric's voice was scarcely a croak.

"And that's the one they call Diafol Ceffyl. Marwolaeth."

* * *

**Review! XD**


	65. Chapter 65

Chapter 65

In the weeks that followed, Avalina rode Marwolaeth every single day. She took him exploring through the valleys, hills and forests around her home, going farther out than she'd ever gone before. She didn't have to worry about not making it home in time for supper now.

She rode him down to the rockbars along the river, and he would swim her across in a place where the current wasn't so strong. She took him up high on the ridges behind her farm, out to the rock ledge that would become her favorite place on earth. She could see for miles and miles up here!

Simply walking him was no longer mandatory. Her confidence in herself and her trust in the horse restored, Avalina taught herself to ride at any speed. It took a week's work, but she rigged up a course of sorts down a particular deer trail that was wider than most, and they would race.

Marwolaeth always seemed to know when she couldn't hold on anymore, and he would slacken his pace enough for her to regain her grip before he would speed up again.

Despite this, Avalina fell off many times. Luckily no one was around to see, and most of the spills occurred on the sandy riverbank, or in the shallows themselves, where she learned to really ride. The ground was soft here, preventing everything but slight bruises.

After a while, when it became obvious he wasn't going to run off and leave her, she would simply remove his reins so he wouldn't trip over them when she would inevitably come off and let him gallop like mad, before he would skid to a stop and take off again in the opposite direction. Occasionally he would buck and crowhop, throwing all of his body into the air at once. After many weeks of this, she could stick to his back like a hair in a cold biscuit.

Spitting out a mouthful of water, she wiped her hair out of her face and peered through her dripping eyelashes at him, dancing there on the bank as if he had an audience.

"This is the third bath in the past hour, boy," she told him playfully. "Get in here!"

The horse snorted and galloped in, throwing waves everywhere and pawing madly. The spray he threw up was like diamonds, and they glittered so blindingly in the sunlight Avalina had to turn away from them.

Swimming over, she climbed onto his back and laughed as he buried his whole muzzle in the river, before she turned him back to shore.

As they dried off in the warm sunlight, a little ways from the river, Avalina worked the leather reins in her hands to keep them from stiffening when they dried. Stiff reins were dangerous.

The horse was peacefully cropping grass not too far away, and when she was content with the reins she carefully stood up and tiptoed away into the trees.

Not even a second passed before she heard his whinny. Taking off into a dead run, she ran blindly through the forest, hearing him right behind her.

Dodging a tree, she whipped around and took off in the opposite direction, laughing like mad.

The horse snorted in delight and chased her. This was one of his favorite games!

She knew it was over when she felt the ground vibrate underneath her feet.

A whoosh of hot air against her neck made her shriek in mock terror, before he blew past her and went bucking down the trail.

Thus the game went on until Avalina was worn out.

Panting, she leaned against a tree as Marwolaeth danced back up to her, cavorting like a colt, his sides damp.

"You think you're such a bad boy, you and your bad self, don't you?" Avalina gasped as he came over and stuck his nose in her lap, wanting her to scratch his ears.

"But I know you're just a big softy on the inside."

Avalina laughed and scratched his ears as he snorted indignantly.

"You're my angel, you know that?"

After a pause, she added, "Which is why you don't deserve those names anymore."

The horse gazed at her as she got up and looked him over.

"You're not the Diafol Ceffyl anymore, and you're not Marwolaeth. Maybe to other people, but not to me. Momma firmly believes that a person's name reflects their personality. So do I, and if you keep those awful names, you won't be able to really be free from your past self. Every time you hear that name, you'll be reminded of what you used to be. But what to call you instead. . ."

Avalina walked around, the horse turning to follow her.

"Momma said her brother never named you, you were just the horse. You've never had a real name to call your own, have you?"

The horse shook his long mane to get rid of an annoying fly.

"I thought so. You need something defined, royal, unusual. A great horse like you deserves a great title, and I think I know just the thing. I've been reading a really awesome book, and I got my idea from it."

Placing a hand on the horse's cheek, she asked him, "What do you think of Mitternacht?"

The horse's ears came forward, catching the foreign syllables.

"Mitternacht," she repeated, watching him. His ears came forward again.

"It means Midnight in another tongue. Do you like it? I hope you do. It fits you so much better than. . .Marwolaeth."

She hated saying that out loud.

The horse's ears went back slightly at the last word, but when she repeated his new name again, they came forward.

"Well, Mitternacht it is then!" She told him happily as she rubbed his forelock out of his mane.

"Now let's get home!" She told him as she swung up, "It'll be time for supper when we get there!"

Mueric had told her to never, ever bring a horse in hot, so she walked him the last mile or two back to the farm.

"Momma," Avalina asked as she helped Gaenor clean the kitchen.

"Can I ask you a question?"

Arran and Mueric had retired for the night, leaving them alone.

"Yes, dear," her mother replied.

Avalina had noticed her mother seemed brighter these days, after the initial panic attack of seeing Avalina astride the horse people called unrideable.

"I was kinda wondering. . .when bad things happen, does good things follow?"

"Well, I'm not really sure, I've never thought about it. Why do you ask?"

"Well, Momma, if I hadn't gotten lost in the marketplace that day, I never would have found Mitternacht. If he hadn't thrown me, I wouldn't be riding him now, and if. . ."

Avalina cut off.

"What, dear?" Her mother prompted.

"Well," Avalina said hesitantly, "If the worst thing that ever happened to us hadn't happened, we wouldn't have been in the marketplace to begin with, and I wouldn't be having the best time of my life right now."

She held off the part that if her uncle hadn't died, she never would have found a best friend.

Her mother's voice wobbled slightly as she dried another plate.

"Well, then, I suppose its true. The way you say it, anyway. and what did you call the horse, just now? Isn't his name Marwolaeth?"

"Not anymore," Avalina told her mother eagerly, "You remember how you told me a name is everything? Well, I decided. . . ."

Gaenor scrubbed the dishes as she listened to her daughter talk all about that horse. She didn't think she'd ever seen her this happy in her whole life. It was so strange, how a child couldn't get any lower one day, and then a few months later be as high as a kite.

Gaenor's husband, her children's father, had died only a few weeks before the horse had been dumped on them. The blow had devastated them severely, not only emotionally, but financially as well.

Arran had had to literally grow up overnight, leaving his childhood behind like a leaf in the wind as he took on the role of the man in the house. And he hadn't been quite the same since. He was colder to his sister now. He never played with her anymore, never laughed, rarely smiled. Gaenor understood it was his way of dealing with his grief, but it made her own heart ache to know that her little boy would never be the same again.

Avalina, on the other hand, had openly crashed. While Arran had dealt with things in his stoic, bravefaced way, Avalina had cried constantly for the first week, before simply disappearing, becoming a shadow of her former self, hiding in the forest most of the time and often refusing to eat.

When that horse had came into her life, it was like she had been reborn. And Gaenor could not help but feel happier too.

"I'm the happiest girl in the world, I tell you!" Avalina said enthusiastically as she put another plate away.

"I have a horse all my own! We're gonna be best friends forever!"

Gaenor's heart sank. She didn't have the heart to remind her daughter that the horse was, in fact, the king's property.

And he would be wanting him back.

* * *

The letter came by a messenger one day while Avalina was gone with the horse, saying that the king desired the animal back immediately.

Avalina was devastated, but there was nothing they could do but head to the village.

The horse knew something was off and was depressed and jittery by turns.

In the village, all they got were stares. Rather, that was all the horse and Avalina got. People peeked out their windows and doors and even came out onto the street to see Marwolaeth, the Diafol Ceffyl of all Prydain, the untamable horse that couldn't be rode, walk by with a rider, no more than ten, astride him. Without a saddle, to top it off.

Mitternacht paid them no mind, except for one who got too close. A warning snap took care of him.

The group filed into the castle courtyard like a funeral procession, scarcely paying attention to the guards and other servants, who stared with open mouths. One ran off to inform the king, and one of the guards brought out a saddle from the stable to put on Mitternacht.

Mitternacht stood like a soldier as Mueric helped Avalina with the straps. The horse had become accustomed to the old man being around and tolerated him, but it was obvious he still didn't like him.

Avalina rode him about in the courtyard while they waited for the king, to get Mitternacht used to the saddle and try to walk off some of his nerves.

The horse snorted and stared out past the village, toward the rolling hills and ridges behind. He couldn't see much from here, but he knew all those nooks and crannies were there, and he pulled at his bit, wanting to leave.

It broke Avalina's heart.

"My sincerest thanks to you, miss," King Gwydion told her as he approached, having seen her riding the horse about the courtyard. "You have done something no one else could do."

"With all due respect, Majesty," Mueric said, "Mebbe you oughtta ride him yourself before you say anythin'."

"Indeed."

Avalina had to hold Mitternacht's head as he danced around in a circle, his ears pinned back at the man.

"Boy, don't make this any harder," Avalina whispered softly, causing the horse to stand still. "I hate this as much as you do."

When the king's weight settled into the saddle, the horse tightened every muscle in his body, preparing to buck, but Avalina's soft voice kept him down.

The king, embarrassed and slightly angry that a child would have to lead his horse for him, ordered her to step away, before pulling the horse's head in the opposite direction when he tried to follow her.

The animal tossed his head angrily and struck the cobblestones, and when the king would not give in, went into the biggest bucking fit anyone watching had ever seen.

He crowhopped, he spun, he twisted, he lurched back and forth in the air, he tried every trick he knew, while the crowd around watched in growing awe.

"What a horse!" Some murmured.

"What a dangerous animal!"

"What a rider! Who'd've thought the king would be such a rider?"

Avalina heard them all, but somehow she couldn't get her throat to work and shout at Mitternacht to stop.

It seemed like an eternity, watching the duo go round and round the courtyard, the king clutching on grimly and the horse's fury mounting when he discovered this one would not be so easily tossed.

In a rage, he reached around and tried to bite the man's legs, and connected on his first snap. This surprised his rider so much he loosened his grip by mistake, so the next buck sent him high in the air, before, by the greatest of luck, landing in a strawpile a dozen yards away, instead of on the hard cobblestones that surely would have resulted in broken bones.

The horse, his coat slick with sweat and lather, immediately went straight to Avalina, who held him tight, keeping her mouth shut, as she didn't know if she should scold him or praise him for what he'd done.

"I thought you said that animal was trained!" King Gwydion told her crossly as he brushed straw off his coat.

"He is!" Avalina protested as she held him, "He just doesn't like other people!"

A gasp went round the courtyard. Nobody had ever talked to the king like that before!

"Kid, watch yer mouth," Mueric told her grimly.

"How else was I supposed to say it?"

"Not like that."

"I'm sorry, sir," she apologized in the king's direction.

"Hold him still," Gwydion said as he approached. "Maybe he needs to find out that rebellion doesn't pay."

Avalina watched in horror as the king produced a riding crop before he mounted.

"Let's see him try to bite me this time."

Avalina could have sworn she saw the horse roll his eyes, before they flashed in anger as he felt the king get on him again.

Mitternacht bucked all over the courtyard, each one being rewarded with a smack of the crop across his flanks, sides, or shoulders.

It took more effort this time to throw him, but throw him he did, right into the water trough, before he danced back to Avalina with his head held high.

Avalina nearly wept as the king rose dripping from the trough and made his way back across the courtyard, anger evident in every step he took.

To Avalina's immense relief, Mueric stepped between them.

"Sire," he told the king, "I strongly advise you to call this off. The last two times you were thrown you got lucky. The next time you may not. There's cobblestones everywhere, and we," Here he gestured to the crowd, "Don't need our king killed. Think of the people, your Highness."

After a moment, King Gwydion relented.

"Very well, we will continue this in the field."

"Let the kid ride him!" A voice shouted out from the crowd.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The king irritably gestured for Avalina to try.

Avalina slipped into the saddle with ease and took up the reins.

Mitternacht's ears flicked forward eagerly, stamping once, before she asked him to walk. With an obvious joy in his gait, he did so.

Avalina walked him across the courtyard and back, the horse responding happily to her signals, his head held high in pride. The change in him was obvious to all who watched.

"Let the kid keep him!" Another voice shouted.

The crowd took up the cry, until nothing else could be heard over their chanting, and the horse, sensing it was for him, hammed it up to his level best, tossing his mane and tail as he pranced towards the small group awaiting him.

If he was human, Mueric would have sworn that the horse would have been smirking triumphantly at King Gwydion.

He pranced to a stop in front of them, and as Avalina got off, she bowed from the waist, lightly tapping the insides of the horse's knee joints as she did so.

The crowd went nuts when the horse knelt as well.

The king's mouth twitched upward slightly.

"It seems I've met my better," he told Avalina.

"Oh, no sir," Avalina corrected him. "I couldn't have rode him like you did."

"No, but you don't have to," he told her. "And that's the best part. He wants you, that's plain as day. I could take him back, but he would never work for me like he does for you."

Turning to the crowd, he stretched out his arms for silence, still managing to look regal and intimidating while soaking wet.

"The voice of the people has been heard!" He shouted. "And granted! I hereby declare that the horse goes with the peasant Avalina! And may the Fates help me if I ever go back on that!"

The crowd exploded in laughter and approval as Gwydion turned back to Avalina.

"Sire? Does this mean he can go home with me?" She asked timidly.

"Yes, it does," he told her, smiling. "And when you are old enough, I would like you to work for me as a royal horse trainer."

Avalina's eyes widened.

"You. . .mean that?"

"Of course I do."

Accepting a small sack from a servant, he handed it to her.

"Your payment."

"But. . ."

'I never go back on my word."

After casting a glance back at her mother to ok it, Avalina turned back to him, gesturing to the horse.

"If its all the same to you, could I keep him as payment instead?"

"Well. . .if, that's what you want. . ."

The crowd went into whoops of shock when Avalina suddenly hugged the king tight, throwing him completely off guard.

"Thank you so much!" She cried. "I can take my best friend home!"

The king smiled at her kindly.

"Well, your best friend taught me a lesson today, miss. Sometimes even a king needs reminding that he is indeed, just a man. And who better to remind him and put him in his place than a horse?"

* * *

**WHEW! FINALLY, the FLASHBACK IS OVER! *Collapses* You readers have no idea what I go through. XD *Raises head* The next chapter will be back in the present, and I will live rejoicing, knowing that the story is FINALLY over! *throws confetti* Whoof! *passes out***


	66. Chapter 66

Chapter 66

"And that was when I met the Princess and started music lessons," Avalina finished.

The room was very quiet, and rather dark. The only sound was the snapping of the fire.

Avalina risked a glance over at the Horned King, to see him staring into the fire with an odd look on his face, seemingly deep in thought.

The silence was almost deafening, but there was no hostility in the air, and Avalina realized she was completely relaxed. Something very unusual as of late.

Her eyes drooped slightly as she watched the Horned King for another moment, before staring into the fire as well. She was tired.

The silence flowed by like water, neither of them seeming willing to break it.

A soft rattle of breath indicated the Horned King was about to speak, but Avalina still jumped slightly when he spoke.

"When he threw you the first time, what possessed you to go back out there and get back on him, knowing full well you could be killed?"

Avalina blinked, looking over at the Horned King, who was watching her with an unreadable expression.

"I've asked myself that a lot of times since then, and Momma has too. There was a whole lot of reasons, I guess. The first and foremost one was that I knew I was going to lose him that day, and that prompted me to do something I wouldn't normally do, to keep him from dying. And he knew he'd messed up and he wanted to apologize, so I accepted it and we tried it again. Now that I think about it, I think that if I'd left him and walked away that afternoon, I never would have summoned up the courage to get on a horse ever again. Besides, my dad asked me once, 'What's the first thing you do when a horse bucks you off?' And I asked what, and he said, 'If you don't let him beat ya, you get straight back on.' You've got to show 'em you're tough enough to take anything they throw at you, where you can look the horse in the eye and the horse can call you his equal, and be proud of it. I think that's what happened to me and Mitternacht."

A silence followed, before the Horned King asked another question.

"Why would you risk your life to save something that everyone else thought was unsalvageable? It makes no logical sense."

"I don't know," Avalina answered quietly. "I just. . .I saw something in his eyes that first day, when he was bleeding inside that corral with all those people yelling for his head. He had such a look of despair on him, yet he stood like a warrior. He looked like he'd all but given up on loving someone else ever again. He really loved that knight. I guess I know how it feels to lose somebody you care about that much, and it gave us some common ground."

"And even after he hurt you, you still went back? Why?"

Avalina was silent for a moment, wondering how to reply.

"Because I saw something in him worth trying to save. He was acting off a broken, despairing heart, and the only way he knew how to express it was through anger, and he was just mad at the world for taking his best friend away. All anyone saw in him was a monster. But sometimes all somebody needs is a second chance, even if they don't deserve it. And I guess we were granted ours, him and me both."

This time the silence was longer before the telltale rattle.

"What happened to your father?"

Avalina started. She hadn't expected him to bring that up.

"I. . .I don't know," she answered slowly, trying to keep the sudden prickle of tears back. "He was there, and then he just. . .wasn't."

A pause.

"I see."

Another pause.

"Was he ill?"

"I'm not sure. There wasn't no warning."

Avalina sniffled softly, determined to hold the tears in.

The silence that followed was the longest the entire conversation had had. The only sounds were the snapping of the fire, and Avalina was nearly asleep when the Horned King finally spoke again, jolting her from her dazed state.

"Do you believe there is hope for everything in this world?"

Avalina stared down at the rug, wondering how to answer.

"Well sir," she finally told him softly, "I think everything does, maybe. It depends on whether they take their second chance or not. Mitternacht could have chosen not to let me into his heart at all, and that would have been the end of the story. But he did, and we both got a whole new life because of it. I. . .I guess you could say we fixed each other."

"Hm."

The silence dragged out again, and Avalina was very nearly asleep when the old clock loudly chimed one.

"The hour is late," the Horned King remarked as he rose gracefully from his chair, the movement freezing Avalina's blood as his shadow fell across her.

"I will let you retire."

Slowly, he walked toward the stairs as Avalina rose from her chair as well, stretching slightly.

"I hope I didn't bore you," she told him softly, causing him to turn and look down at her, "It was pretty long."

"You did not," he told her in his monotone voice, "And yes, it was. Next time, we will start earlier."

Avalina gave a tiny smile.

"Yes sir."

And then the shadows swallowed him up.

* * *

"Well," The Invisible said wonderingly as Avalina disappeared into her room for the night, "That was all pretty unexpected."

". . .Yeah."

The Invisibles had listened, spellbound, as Avalina had told her tale.

"So, that explains why she can play music."

"And why she has a horse."

"And. . .stuff. Man, that's just like. . .whoa."

". . .Yeah."

". . .eeeeeEEEHHHH!" One Invisible squealed.

"You know what this means!?"

"Here we go," The first one grumbled.

"ProgrEEEEEESS!

"ProgrEEEEEESS!"

"Alright, you've made your point!" The first Invisible snapped. "Now shut up!"

Snickers followed.

"In your dreams, maybe."

"CAN you even dream?"

"Yeah, can you?"

"Huh-huh-huh?"

"Huh-huh-huh?"

"Only when you two aren't around."

"Soooo, basically, that means never."

"So sad. . ."

"But true. . ."

The fourth Invisible carefully exited Avalina's chambers.

"I've got her comfortable for tonight," it said softly. "I think she was asleep before her head even hit the pillow."

". . .How did she do it this afternoon? How? It makes no sense. That horse could have killed her, and yet. . ."

"He did what she asked of him."

"Since when does any living creature willingly approach the Horned King like that?"

"Since this evening, I guess. Boy, did you see his face? He looked awestruck."

"When that horse bolted I was so scared for her. I thought it was over for sure.

"But it wasn't! She steered that horse back like a boss!"

"And then, this evening, did you notice?"

"Oh yeah! They were talking to each other almost like normal people!"

"It was great!"

"It was Awesome! He really enjoyed listening to her. I think how she and Mitternacht met was amazing! I really liked that part about how a name defines someone. Its really true!"

"Yeah, and the part that good things always follow bad things."

The third Invisible gasped.

"Hey, guys, did you catch this?"

"Catch what?"

"Catch what?"

"Ok, ok, listen," it said excitedly.

"Avalina got lost in the crowd the day she found Mitternacht, right?"

"Yeah. . ."

"And she got lost in the forest the night she found the castle, right?"

". . .Whoa, that's deep. . ."

"Listen, it gets better. Judging by Avalina's story, her father died around the same time Spike did the first time!"

". . . .Ok, now that's just creepy."

"Mitternacht hurt Avalina first before he let her in, and the Horned King's already hurt her! He's just a little harder to crack than the horse!"

"You sound happier about people being in pain than is probably healthy," the first remarked dryly.

"Shush!" The second said wildly, before turning back to the third. "What else? Tell me!"

"She was given a limited time to train the horse. The master has a limited time here. The horse enjoyed her singing and so does he."

By now, all the other Invisibles were silent, listening in awe.

"Everybody thought it couldn't be done with the horse, and nobody, including us, think it can really be done here. Don't you see?"

"Its a SIIIIIIIGN!"

"Its a SIIIIIIIGN!"

"It IS ironic, isn't it?" The fourth asked the first.

"So many parallels to Mitternacht's story and the master's."

"Its almost weird."

". . . .Almost?" The third spluttered.

"AlMost? Yo, its a sign!"

"But that's almost got me convinced this thing might turn out alright after all," the first replied, ignoring the third.

"If she could tame Mitternacht. . ."

The fourth finished for it.

"You think she could tame the master, too?"

"That's just corny," the second sniffed.

"But so appropriate," the third grinned.

"No, its not corny," The first answered.

"The way you worded it sure is."

"Well, let's hear you do it."

"If she could change Mitternacht, she could change the master too. Now, doesn't that sound so much better?"

". . .You changed one word."

"And it made all the difference, didn't it?"

"I don't get it. It means the same exact thing."

". . .Nevermind."

"On another note, has Creeper got drunk again?"

"No, and we should all plan to keep it that way. He's just lucky the master didn't catch him at it."

"I agree, but come on! I wanna see it too-hoo-hoo!" The third Invisible whined, hitting the floor for emphasis.

"Can't we lock him in the gwythaint's stable like you did last time and watch?" The second begged.

"No," the first growled. "The gwythaint was driven nearly insane by Creeper's intoxicated warbling."

"Now THAT would be hilarious! Ha!"

"What, the gwythaint singing the Grinch?"

The two exploded into laughter as the first moaned again.

"On the other hand, I do believe I'll take a shot. Who's with me?"

Silence.

The slamming of the door was the only noise to be heard, right before they all started bellowing at something random.

"Well, that's one way to get rid of 'em," the first Invisible grinned to itself.

"Too bad it'll only work once."

The door flew open violently and a mountain of multi-colored paper crashed in, filling the room.

"GAAAH!" The first Invisible shouted. "No, No No, no, NOOOOOOOO! YOU IDIOTS!"

The cackling laughter of the others as they took off down the hall was deafening.

"Bye-bye, Dusty Rainbow!"

**Boy, it feels good to be back in the present! XD Leave a review!**


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

Creeper had hidden by the bottom of the steps and listened to Avalina's story. He had expected to be bored and was surprised he was not.

He had quietly left when it was finished, not wanting anyone to catch him eavesdropping.

Over this past week, the Master had not called for him once, and Creeper couldn't have been happier about it.

His Master's recent behavior was confusing to him. He didn't understand it all.

After his Master had saved the girl from the wolf attack, things had been somewhat. . .different. Creeper didn't know how else to explain it. It just was, and his little mind could only comprehend so much at once.

This afternoon, Creeper had saw the entire incident through the window, his jaw nearly on the floor, watching the scene unfold below him.

It was something he'd never seen before. A living creature walk right up to the Horned King and stare him down.

And that girl. . .she controlled that demon horse like it was nothing! How did she DO that? Creeper could only stare as she turned the lathered animal around and walked him back into the stable like a soldier.

Creeper himself felt better than he could remember feeling in a long time. Any day his Master didn't send for him was a good day, and he'd had a week straight of good days! It was a record.

After his master and the girl had retired for the night, he had came across a small wagon in one of the halls, filled to overflowing with brightly colored paper wads and ribbons.

He had heard the Invisibles talking just a couple rooms down. . .he grinned suddenly. This would be perfect revenge for all the bad treatment he had received from his Master because of them.

Getting behind it, he had pushed with all his might against the wagon, and to his surprise it moved!

Grunting, he shoved it to a sloping part of the hall, where it teetered for a moment, before one last shove sent it over the edge.

He watched as it rocketed toward the door below, silently willing it to open, and as the Fates would have it, it did!

Right before it shut.

The Invisibles that had came out started bellowing in joy and flung the door open again, allowing the wagon's front wheels to catch on the threshold and throw its load inside.

They had yanked the wagon back out of the way, shouted something about rainbows and then slammed the door shut. The bellowing of a very angry Invisible could be heard on the other side.

"Ahahaha, that was Great, little buddy!" One of the Invisibles laughed as they came up to him. "You read our minds!"

". . .I did?" Creeper asked, completely befuddled. He had expected them to be angry, and yet, here they were, laughing their heads off, while the raging of the other Invisible was dimly audible down the hall.

"Yes!" Another one sobbed in laughter. (Or was it the same one?)

"That was glorious! You'll be a great minion! If we were allowed to have minions, that is. . ."

"We'll hide him!"

"Yeah! Quick, to the supply room!"

"NO!" Creeper shouted. "I am NOT your minion!"

"Ok, ok, sheesh," an Invisible answered. "You're not our minion. What are you, then?"

"HOPTOAD!"

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

Creeper stood with his arms crossed, glaring at the air, tapping a little foot. He was not amused, and this only seemed to make them laugh harder.

"That's not funny."

This brought on another wave of laughter from them, so hard he felt the stones shiver slightly under his feet.

"I'm going to bed, its way past my bedtime."

Stomping off, the last thing he heard before he shut a door behind him was, "But don't you want some rainbow mushrooms?!"

Snarling, he slammed the door, hearing them crack up even harder.

"Servants."

* * *

The Horned King stood by the window in his chambers, staring out into the pitch black night. The silence was nearly suffocating, save for the cool little breeze that rippled the tattered old curtains by the window in an eerie manner, but the Horned King paid it no mind.

The wooden 'door' of the window tapped against the stone by the force of the breeze, despite being tied to the wall.

He had been so deeply engrossed in Avalina's story, he hadn't realized she had finished for a while. She described things very well, and he could almost see it himself, the trials, triumphs, highs and lows she had gone through while training the horse.

He felt calmer and more relaxed than he could remember feeling in a long, long time.

The horse's history intrigued him. He had expected it to be an average run-of-the-mill story about a girl and a horse, but it had turned out to be so much more.

_'That horse was called Death by everyone,'_ he thought silently.

_'Feared, hated, despised by all. His reputation preceded him everywhere. And yet. . .Avalina proved them all wrong. She dared to put her life on the line to save him, and she succeeded, because she saw something nobody else did. Rather, something no one else tried to see. She said so herself. Would anyone else have seen it if they had looked hard enough?'_

The breeze tugged at the curtains a little harder, gently ruffling the hems of his robes.

_'Probably not. It takes a fine eye to find something that well hidden, and few people would have tried riding him again, especially at her age. Grown men would not have tried that. And now he would do anything for her. He proved that this afternoon.'_

The window tapped again, allowing him to alter his line of thought.

_'The horse, after the initial sighting, showed no more fear of me today. When he looked at me, I felt (If I could feel, that is) something I've never felt before. Or if I have at some point, I no longer remember it. This is. . .completely unexpected. All creatures fear me, as they well should. For I am a monster.'_

The Horned King narrowed his eyes as the breeze picked up a little, before falling deathly silent.

_'And yet, today. . .neither the horse or Avalina flinched away from me in the courtyard. For the briefest of moments, I thought I felt. . .something.'_

He bared his fangs silently at the thought, mildly disgusted with himself.

_'But that is impossible. I cannot feel. I haven't in centuries. But today. . .today was. . .different, somehow.'_

His fingers drummed slowly on the pane in puzzlement.

_'If I knew such a thing, I might be fooled into thinking that I felt. . .Hope. But that is impossible. I cannot feel. I have no heart to feel with.'_

Turning away from the window, he closed his eyes for a brief moment.

_'If I were able to feel, and if there truly was anything under my monstrous image worth seeking, and if it were not such a weak, foolish, *mortal* emotion, I might be able to hope. I might be able to hope that my. . .situation. . .was reversible. But it is not.'_

A faint sigh, all but completely indistinguishable from the breeze, escaped him as he buried the incident that afternoon in his mind, refusing to dwell on it anymore.

_'For I am heartless.'_

* * *

The cool breeze swept over her, ruffling her hair and skirt, as the warm yellow sunbeams warmed her body from the outside in. The grass swished against her bare feet, and she leaped high in the air, laughing in joy at the sensation. It was wonderful.

Racing, she ran through the green meadow, which was lavishly sprinkled in beautiful wildflowers, as she fancied she heard the pounding of Mitternacht's hooves right behind her, drumming through the earth.

Knowing better than to waste time looking over her shoulder, she laughed and ran over a small rise, before hiding behind the only tree in sight.

The horse whooshed past her and kept right on going, bucking and twisting in the air, snorting loudly.

He disappeared over another rise, and she stifled a giggle. He knew where she was, he was just playing.

Turning, she took off in the other direction, clearing the rise she had just went over.

The entire landscape below had now changed, from a wide, grassy meadow to a sunlit forest, but it didn't bother her.

Ducking under some monstrous limbs, she slipped inside.

The peace the forest radiated was soothing. Butterflies flitted through the air, while a squirrel leaped effortlessly from limb to limb, almost seeming to fly, high above her head. His tail streamed out behind him like a banner, before he disappeared into the sunbeams.

Looking back down, she headed down a little deer trail that had been used rather recently, judging by the tracks.

Using the utmost stealth, she knelt and hid in some bushes by the path as she saw a beautiful family of deer come into view, feeding off the forest grasses. The does grazed warily, snapping up bites of grass, before yanking their heads up to stare all around, constantly on the alert for danger.

Little fawns bounced and chased each other all over the place, clearing the undergrowth and stamping their tiny hooves as they challenged each other to mock fights.

A butterfly rested on her arm as she grinned in joy, watching the deer.

Life was perfect.

A faint whisper came to her on the wind, causing her to carefully lift her eyes from the herd and look up, trying to see where it was coming from.

Suddenly, the forest grew very dark, as if a thick cloud had covered the sun. The wind picked up and suddenly felt cold, where it had been pleasant only a moment before.

The trees whispered muffled warnings in the wind as the deer bounded away and the birdsong grew silent.

Avalina felt a chill run up her spine.

Something was coming. Coming down the path. She sensed it rather than saw it. And it felt threatening.

Knowing better than to raise up, she carefully huddled herself as deep into the bushes as she could, praying she wouldn't slip and cause one to rustle and give away her position.

_'Don't see me, don't see me,'_ she thought in terror, as the sensation of something coming grew stronger.

_'Please don't see me.'_

Daring to peek carefully through the tiny gaps in the greenery, her eyes searched for anything that moved, something that could distinguish who or what it was that was out there, but she couldn't see anything.

As she pulled back slightly from the bushes, she realized with a start they weren't green anymore. They were withered and brown.

So was the grass. And the undergrowth. And the trees.

All of this was comprehended in a second, before something gripped her shoulder hard from behind.

Screaming, Avalina leaped up, wrenching herself free from its grip, only one thought entering her head.

_'Run!'_

Which she did.

Crashing through the brittle undergrowth, she ran and ran and ran, dodging cracked, twisted old trees.

Her sides hurt. Her head hurt. Her legs hurt. So did her lungs, but she did not dare to stop. To stop would be her death.

She wanted to scream, but she had to conserve every bit of air she could inhale to fuel her burning muscles.

It was gaining on her.

In her exhaustion, she was moving so slowly, it felt as if she were simply running in place, unable to get any speed back.

It was toying with her. It could catch her anytime it wanted.

Avalina tripped over a root and went sprawling into a small hollow, her momentum rolling her for several feet before she stopped.

Stunned, she lay motionless on the ground, knowing it was over. She wanted to move, she wanted to run, but her muscles wouldn't work.

Not that it mattered. It was right there anyway. She wouldn't even be able to try.

The tall shadow fell over her, and her blurry vision just barely made out the shape of something reaching toward her face.

Terrified, she tried to scream, tried to move, anything, but nothing.

Her chest constricted so tightly as it gently brushed her cheek, she felt like she would suffocate.

Dimly, she wondered where her horse had gotten off to.

_'Mitternacht, where are you?'_

* * *

Avalina's eyes snapped open like lightning, staring in fright at the wall. Her heart was hammering madly inside her chest, and she realized she was gripping the sheets so tightly her hands were sweaty.

It was hot in here.

Tossing the blankets off, she pulled open the window, sighing as the breeze cooled her off and helped to slow her thudding heart.

The silence was eerie, and she fought with herself for several minutes on whether to leave it open or not.

Her dream tugged at her mind, but it was so *hot*. . .

Exhausted, she left it open and slipped back under the covers, her eyes already closed.

_'Just a dream, Avalina, go back to sleep.'_

She sighed as she burrowed into a more comfortable position, her exhaustion overriding her fears.

_'Just a dream.'_

* * *

**Don't forget to leave a review of some sort! ;) Oh, and to the new person that reviewed yesterday and stuff, thank you so much for doing so! I won't call you out by name, but you're awesome! :D I would have replied to your review privately but your PM thing-a-ma-jig ain't activated XD. Thank you for your encouragement, and don't worry, I plan to see this story through to the end, because if I don't, my editor will beat the tar out of me for lying to her when I said I wouldn't quit on this thing halfway through XD. Nothin' like a best friend. . .LOL Besides, I'm having way too much fun to stop writing now XD.**

**Thank you all for reading my fanfiction, it really means a lot to me:)**

**LBG**


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 68

"Good boy, Mitternacht!"

Avalina called encouragingly, waving her left hand for emphasis, gripping the lunge line tightly in her right.

"Keep going!"

The horse snorted in an almost affirmative gesture as he continued to gallop around the girl in a circle at the end of his thirty-foot lead, his ears swiveled in her direction, listening for the next command.

His large black hooves threw up clouds of dust every time they hit the ground, trampling over the dead grass and weeds that hugged the earth flatly.

His coat was damp with sweat, and faint streaks of white lather around his joints and all the leather straps were nearly brown by now as he continued to sweep through his own dust storm.

He snorted hard to keep the dust out of his nose, the action sounding almost like an equine bark, his mane flowing down his neck and shoulders like a cape, and his long, thick tail streaming behind him like a beautiful banner. The feather on his feet were almost like the little black flags that knights sometimes put on the end of their lances.

Avalina switched the lead from her right hand to her left and pulled very slightly, so that he turned to face her.

As he did so, she swept her right arm over toward her right side, cueing him.

He obeyed with a bounce of his feet, crowhopping once and making the stirrups come up slightly, before arching his neck and galloping round in the opposite direction, blowing loudly as he passed through the fresh dust cloud again that he had just stirred up. A faint tug at his rope and an arm cue slowed the reluctant horse to a swift trot.

Avalina had started exercising him daily, taking him out in the dead fields that surrounded the Horned King's castle to work with him. He was dying for exercise of some sort, and being out of the enclosed courtyard was a tremendous relief. Not only were they not boxed in anymore, but she could work him without worrying about destroying his hooves on the cobblestone.

She had ridden him earlier for a while, and this was the easiest way to cool him off, other than letting him completely off the rope.

She had no fear of him leaving, but he needed to remember how to lunge correctly at a steady distance, and off-line he had a tendency of either straying out too far or pulling in too close. With the lead on she didn't have to constantly correct him. It frustrated them both when she had to do that.

After another minute or two, she pulled again on the rope and called for Mitternacht to walk. He didn't want to at first and protested, but grudgingly did so, before realizing how tired he really was and willingly dropping down his speed.

When his breathing had returned to normal from the workout, she called him to her, reeling in the rope as he complied.

Gathering the loops in her left hand, she patted his neck affectionately before swinging up and walking him back toward the drawbridge, both of them feeling contented and happy.

It took a long time to get Mitternacht clean after the dust bath they'd taken, and Avalina had to wash herself off as best she could at the pump before she tackled the equipment.

Despite the fact that the thick, reddish-black clouds that covered every inch of the sky in the Horned King's domain blocked out the sun, they didn't go the whole nine yards and block out the heat too, and it was hot today. Very hot. Thankfully, working in the fields every day in all kinds of weather back at home had gotten them used to it., but that didn't mean they didn't long for a breeze. The air was like an oven today.

Cleaning all the tack thoroughly took even longer than cleaning up Mitternacht, but seeing a tackroom full of shiny, clean equipment and a stall full of a clean and contented horse made it more than worth it.

Avalina had singlehandedly cleaned the entire stable during the weeks she'd been here, and nearly all traces of Mitternacht's rage had been eliminated, save for the hoofmarks all over the walls. That was one thing she couldn't repair, but it wasn't causing any harm, and she saw no reason in fixing something that wasn't broken.

Panting slightly for breath, she stood back to survey her work, before sitting down and grinning tiredly in triumph.

"I think that's a job well done," she gasped out, causing Mitternacht to look up from his manger full of hay and stick his head over the door, pausing in his chewing to listen.

"Except, the only problem now is, I've got nothing else out here to work on."

The horse blew pointedly, stamping his hoof.

"Oh, I know I've still got you, boy," she reassured him, forcing her legs to move so she could go over and rub his nose, "I'd never think of forgetting you, ever. But I can only play with you so much, and I don't need you to get bored of the same old thing around here every single day."

The horse was almost back in top condition. The good food here and the long hours of exercising had put the shine back in his coat and the fire back in his eye. He could gallop for nearly a full mile now at top speed before Avalina had to rein him in. That didn't mean he didn't fight her, though. He loved racing more than anything else in the world, save for her, and he would gallop as long as he absolutely could before she made him stop.

She couldn't see the sun to tell time, but it was getting on down in the evening, and she would have to take a long, thorough bath to get all this dirt off her before the Invisibles dragged her downstairs to eat in the serving hall with her captor.

Reluctantly, she bid the horse goodnight and closed the stable door.

Crossing the courtyard, she saw Creeper bolting the door behind himself as he stepped out of the other stable on the other side of the courtyard. The stable the Horned King had said to never let Mitternacht go near.

Fear of him and fear for her horse had kept her away, but this was the first time she had seen the goblin in about two weeks, and loneliness had made her bolder.

"Hello, Creeper!" She called as cheerfully as she could, crossing the courtyard to him.

The goblin jumped at the sound of her voice, turning quickly to see her. His startled features almost immediately creased into a an irritated frown.

"What do you want, human?" He snarled, turning away from the door.

"I haven't talked to you in a while, I just wanted to see how you were."

"I was fine until you showed up."

"Avalina was a bit taken back at this, but recovered quickly.

"I didn't get a chance to introduce myself before, but my name's Avalina."

Creeper paused a moment.

"How is that important?"

"Well, I know your name, its only fair that you know mine," she told him, smiling gently.

"But since its so long, you can call me Ava, if you want. That's what my friends call me sometimes."

Creeper looked up at her, with an expression on his face that looked caught between extremely frustrated and a little puzzled. It looked a bit funny.

"If you don't quit doing that, your face will freeze that way," she told him in a friendly tone, unable to keep a chuckle down.

"Hmph," he snorted angrily, as he crossed his arms and glared down at the stone like a sulky child.

Avalina tried again, her loneliness prompting her to speak. She had no one to talk to in this dreary place except Mitternacht, and although she couldn't fault his company in the slightest, she longed for the sound of human speech, to talk to someone and hear them answer her in a tongue she could verbally understand and reply in.

"So how are you this afternoon?"

"Didn't I answer that earlier?" He snapped, throwing her an angry glance.

"I was hoping you'd have a nicer answer this time around."

"Well, I don't, so deal with it."

Stifling a sigh, Avalina turned towards the stable, hoping a change of subject would help things.

"What's in there?"

A strange little smirk had lit up the goblin's features.

"You don't know?"

"No," she answered truthfully, not really liking the look he had on his face.

"Why? What is it?"

Creeper slid the bolt back on the door and stepped back, a twisted grin on his face.

"See for yourself."

Avalina peered carefully into the dim light of the stable, before turning back to the goblin.

"You first."

Creeper didn't quite know how to react to this for a moment, but he recovered.

"What's the matter?" He mocked, his good eye glaring at her.

"Afraid of the dark?"

"I've never been scared of the dark," Avalina replied evenly, staring back with a gentle smile on her face, making sure not to turn hostile. Turning defensive would mean he had made her lose her composure and she wasn't about to have that. Besides, what she had said was completely true, which was a huge boost.

She had never feared the dark.

"Besides," she added, "Its not *That* dark in there."

The one torch inside the stable made it fairly easy to see by, plus it was still early enough in the evening that the sun had not begun to set.

Failing to get any type of negative response, Creeper's facial expression changed from mocking to a bit irritated. Why couldn't he intimidate this human like he had the Pig-Keeper? She was a girl at that, it should have been easy!

At a loss for words, he could only glare at her angrily.

"What?" She asked innocently.

Realizing he wouldn't win this way, he grudgingly turned around.

"Follow me," he groaned, stepping inside.

Avalina followed cautiously, making sure to keep the goblin in her sight.

The stable smelled. . .funny. It smelled like straw and wood, like all stables, but there was something else. . .blood. It smelled like blood. And raw meat.

Avalina stiffened as she comprehended this.

"What's in here?" She asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

The goblin gestured towards a stable, walking toward it as he did so.

"In here."

Scarcely had Avalina taken a step toward the door when a massive creature leaped up onto the perch positioned near the center of the stall, its yellow eyes blazing savagely.

Avalina gasped, taking it in in a single thought.

_'Dragon!'_

It screeched at her as it leaped off the perch, charging right at her in one fluid motion as it spread out its large wings.

Avalina screamed and ran toward the door, hearing its roar and feeling the gust of wind its wings made.

Dimly underneath that racket, she thought she heard Creeper screaming something.

Screaming herself, Avalina pumped toward the exit as fast as she could go.

Thankfully, the door was still ajar and she pushed it open hard, not bothering to look where she was going.

The scent of Death filled her nose right before she collided with something. Someone, rather.

Said someone stumbled backwards, snarling in surprise, and what felt like an arm snaked around her back, gripping her tightly to them as they both fought for balance.

The blood in her veins turned to ice in an instant.

When they stopped staggering, Avalina instinctively pushed away from him in terror with a soft shriek, a bit surprised that she was so easily freed, looking up into the Horned King's snarling face as she did so.

Shaking in fright, she coughed as she hurriedly backed out of his aura to the point where she could breathe normally, staring at him in horror, afraid of what he would do.

It was nearly impossible to read his face, but he seemed just as startled as she had been.

"What is this?" He growled lowly, staring.

"No-nothing!" Avalina squeaked, gasping. He had told her to keep the horse away from the stable (For now obvious reasons) but he hadn't said anything about herself.

"I ju-just. . .I just asked, and Cr-Creeper. . .was ju-just sh-showing me. . ."

The Horned King clenched his hands tightly and glared toward the door, where the dragon's roaring had quieted.

"He didn't mean any harm!" Avalina said quickly, jumping to his defense, but a low growl from the Horned King cut her off.

"Did it occur to you that where the horse shouldn't go, you probably should not go either?"

Avalina blanched. He was very angry.

"I'm s-sorry," she shook out. "I didn't mean. . ."

Creeper ran out of the stable, saving her from finishing. A look of relief crossed his face when he saw Avalina, before turning into a cowering heap at the sight of a very angry Horned King.

"M-Ma-Master!" He squeaked in surprise, before promptly groveling.

"How may I be of servi-Ach!"

Avalina jumped as the Horned King picked him up by the throat and pulled him to eye level, the goblin's face mere inches from his own.

"What were you *thinking*?"

The venom in his voice was paralyzing.

"It wasn't his fault!" Avalina cried, her hands lightly pushing against his aura. She dared go no closer.

"I saw him coming out and asked what he was doing and he was going to show me!"

Her fear of the goblin getting hurt was transferred to herself as the Horned King glowered darkly in her direction.

"Do you want to die?"

Avalina paled and froze in terror.

"It couldn't hurt her, Master." the goblin rasped out, "its chained."

The Horned King glared at him so hard Avalina thought for sure it was over for the little thing.

Finally, her captor dropped the goblin at his feet and turned in her direction, causing a fresh wave of fear to freeze her to the spot.

He stared at her for several long moments, neither of them moving a muscle, before he deliberately raised his arm and beckoned to her with a bony finger.

"Come."

He slowly walked inside, and, after a moment's hesitation, (And a panicked gesture from Creeper) Avalina followed.

She stayed behind the Horned King as they approached the stall where the creature was kept.

It was back on its perch and it gave them a piercing gaze, resting on Avalina for a moment before turning its attention to the Horned King.

Avalina could see now that the creature was shackled to the perch with a long chain, enough to let it freely move about, but it was short enough for her to tell that it never would have been able to reach her earlier, and suddenly she felt very foolish.

After the creature and the Horned King regarded each other for a moment, he turned back to her.

"You may approach," he rumbled out, stepping a few feet to the side, enough where she would not have to pass through his aura to get to the stall door.

She hesitated for a long moment, first looking at the horned lich, and then glancing uncertainly over at the creature in the stall, which was staring at her like a cat would a helpless mouse, and she shivered slightly in fright.

The animal growled deeply, fixing her with its predatory gaze, and Avalina shook harder.

"Show no fear," the Horned King's cold monotone echoed out into the stable, making her jump and look back at him.

"They feed off of it."

Avalina stared at him fearfully for a moment, then back at the dragon-like creature, trembling, and slowly drew a deep breath, before cautiously stepping toward the stall.

She wasn't certain whether she could trust the Horned King or not. She remained greatly terrified of him, but after the wolf incident she had a feeling he wouldn't have saved her then just to kill her later. And although this animal could certainly kill, she hoped. . .she prayed. . .that her captor was not doing this for his own malicious enjoyment.

Either way, it was too late to back out now.

The creature rustled its wings, but did not open them, staring at her hard.

Nearly to the stall, she realized that she was well inside the creature's chain length, and it would have no problem mauling her from this distance.

_'Show no fear, show no fear, show no fear. . .' _ She tried to remember, taking another step.

The creature snorted the air, moving its taloned feet down the perch to the side nearest the door, where it could easily reach over.

Avalina froze, watching it for any false movement, and it blew again, smelling her.

"Go on," the Horned King told her, watching from behind.

_'Show no fear, show no fear. . .'_

She was right by the door now, within easy striking distance should the thing decide not to like her, and as it stared down at her she was reminded of how Mitternacht had looked down at her the first time they met.

So much of her fear left with that simple realization, she spoke before she realized what she had done.

The word came out in a whisper.

"Hello."

The dragon studied her for a moment, cocking its head to one side, before slowly leaning its long, slender neck down to sniff her over.

Not daring to move a muscle, Avalina watched with wide eyes as it blew softly, sniffing her over as carefully as a hound would sniff over a deer trail.

After a long moment, she slowly raised her hand for it to sniff, which it did,and murmured something else, awestruck.

"You're beautiful."

It was true. The creature was beautiful in a predatory way, and it seemed to realize it had been given a compliment, and rustled its wings again, slowly spreading them out to their full length as it allowed the girl to gently rub its neck and muzzle.

Avalina gave a soft gasp, amazed at their length.

She guessed they would measure at about twenty feet from tip to tip, and five feet wide at their widest point. As wide as she was tall.

They looked like a bat's wings, looking so delicate, yet able to withstand carrying this creature through the air at massive speeds. Even in the low lighting in here, Avalina could see through the thin membrane that stretched over the bone and cartilage frame.

The dragon had a small, hard horn on the end of its nose, the tip of which curved back towards its large, intelligent eyes, like a bat's nose might do, and foot-long horns sat at the top of its head, framing its face.

Long, sharp teeth poked out in a jagged row on both jaws, showing off the dangerous weapons.

Its body was long and slender, made for swift flying through the air and lightning fast maneuvering, the size of a fairly small horse. She guessed the creature would be about nine or ten feet long from nose to tail.

Its scales seemed to be a rich, black-ish purple-like color, the underbelly a good deal paler than the rest of its body.

Four thick spikes, the longest being about eight inches, sat in a neat row where the withers would be on a horse.

The legs were thick and powerful, yet as graceful as a horse's might be, and the long, whip-like tail had a small, arrow-shaped cartilage piece on the end, about four inches across. Two pairs of spikes were positioned above that, giving the impression of a spiked mace.

No doubt about it, this thing was a force to be reckoned with.

Avalina gingerly reached up to touch one of its wings, the dragon actually pulling its wing nearer to her so she could reach it better, nearly covering her in it.

It was just as leathery feeling as it looked, and it felt rather cool, compared to the heat of the dragon's body.

Creeper remained at the door, frozen, as he took the scene in.

Avalina was standing at the door of the gwythaint's stall, murmuring things he couldn't quite make out, gently stroking the gwythaint, who had its eyes half closed, leaning into her touch.

About ten or fifteen feet behind her, off to the side, his master's eyebrow ridges were raised so high they looked like they might disappear into his hood, and his jaw was hanging slightly, staring at the scene unfolding before him like he couldn't believe what was happening.

Creeper could only stare himself for a long moment, before deciding to take his leave before his master called for him again. At the moment his master looked rather. . .occupied.

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	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

The Horned King stared out of his window in his chambers, watching Avalina lunge her horse in the dirt several hundred yards outside the drawbridge.

Round and round and round, they threw up a dust cloud so thick that from this distance he could hardly see anything, save for the occasional shadow of black rushing through the cloud, or the small figure of the girl outlined inside it.

How they hadn't suffocated from that was rather intriguing. Its not like they had another place to work, anyhow.

Eventually, Avalina had taken the horse back to the stable, and the Horned King had nothing to watch any more.

He paced his chambers silently for a long while, thinking.

His wounds from the wolf attack were nearly completely healed. It had been nearly a fortnight since the incident, and the Invisibles had carefully removed most of the stitches, although light bandages covered where they had been.

He had had much time to think for once. The Invisibles had not bothered him once all day, and he had been left in peace.

For weeks now, something strange had been going on, and he didn't quite know what to make of it. This irritated him, because normally he always knew everything, often well before anyone else did, and not being able to figure something out irritated him extremely.

That odd feeling he would get in his chest whenever Avalina played for him had strengthened, rather than dimmed. And since he had met the horse. . .

He had tried to deny it multiple times. He had tried to stuff it away, deep inside himself, or better yet, eradicate it completely. But each time he thought he had succeeded, it would bloom up again inside him, like a fire that refused to die. It wasn't large, it was small enough to push to the side for a while. But it burned so hot he had no choice but to eventually pay attention to its flame.

There was no denying it.

But he still did not know what this might be, and it frustrated him each time he tried to figure it out.

He could not feel. He was heartless. He *should* not be feeling anything. But this odd sensation was definitely a something, he just could not figure out what. Emotions and their names were just a senseless, indistinguishable jumble now. Mortal sensations were all but completely lost to him.

Avalina had not spoken to him anymore than necessary since she had explained how she had met the horse. Things carried on in their old schedules, but something seemed. . .different. About her. She didn't seem to be quite as jumpy around him, and her stammering had lessened a great deal.

He didn't know whether to be pleased or irritated by this.

He noticed that he had not sent for the Creeper in weeks, and didn't quite know what to make of it. It meant he hadn't been angry in a while.

Which was a good thing. The Horned King disliked losing control of himself, and kept a good hold on his fury for the most part.

Summoning one of the Invisibles, he called for a map of all of Prydain and began to study it for the first time in several weeks.

Carefully, he took note of the geography of the land, and where the human settlements were. The villages and cities, rather. The no doubt hundreds of brush farmers that speckled the landscape were not marked, giving the illusion of vastly unpopulated areas, but he knew better.

Prydain as a whole was not a small country.

The cities, since they were so far apart from one another, were no doubt heavily populated. The villages would be smaller examples.

The rest of the country (The parts that were habitable, at least) were no doubt speckled as lavishly with brush farmers as pepper on an egg.

In short, the boy could be anywhere. It was the perfect equivalent of searching for the proverbial needle in the haystack.

For the first time, he realized that maybe not bothering to learn your enemy's name would be an unwise choice.

He had never called the boy anything except "Pig-Keeper," which was simply a spur-of-the-moment designation, seeing as he kept the oracle swine.

He never bothered asking for names, with the exception of Avalina, and now he realized that a name might not be so unnecessary after all.

There was no telling where that pig-keeper could be. The fact that he owned a magic pig. . .or rather, cared for a magic pig. . .the Horned King snarled slightly as he realized he didn't even know which one it was. . .was irrelevant. Nobody would know about the abilities the animal possessed. The Horned King had found out by mere chance, and he couldn't interrogate every single person in Prydain in the hopes that at least one of them knew something about the matter. Something as important as the pig would no doubt be kept under lock and key, and most, if not all of the populace would be ignorant to the animal's existence.

The only way to do it would be to search each village and city individually, and then comb the countryside, but as the Horned King had no soldiers or fighting force of any type, that was all but impossible. The Fates had thoroughly crippled him, with no pawns to carry out his orders with.

He had already pondered all of the options. He could make Avalina go and search them all out, holding her family over her head for leverage, but a lone peasant girl asking questions and snooping around for something she didn't even know about to begin with was simply a bad idea.

And even he didn't expect a girl her age to travel all of Prydain looking for the pig-keeper by herself.

The only other option would be to send the Creeper and the gwythaint to search everything out, but knowing that brainless idiot, he would no doubt get himself and the gwythaint spotted and the whole thing would be ruined. Word of his return would spread like wildfire, and the pig-keeper would have plenty of time to lay low.

The entire ordeal was rather aggravating.

Crossing the cities off the list of possible options, the Horned King sat down again to think.

The first time the gwythaints had caught the pig, it had not been so terribly far from the castle. Several miles, but not that far away.

The pig-keeper had broken into the castle and made his appearance only a few hours after the pig had arrived. That would mean that he had been with the pig when it was taken, otherwise he would not have known where to come and retrieve it.

_'So,'_ the Horned King mused, staring down at the map, looking at the little dot by the blue splotch on the paper that signified where his castle and the lake was, _'He was either traveling at the time of the snatching, or he lived nearby.'_

The boy's clothing was difficult for the Horned King to recall, but if his memory was correct, the pig-keeper had dressed in one of the many variations of your everyday peasants.

By these bits of information, the lich circled the three villages closest to his castle, and after consideration, a fourth one.

These villages were so far apart from each other, and so far away from the castle, it seemed doubtful the boy would be living in any of them, but he would have to start his search somewhere. He didn't even want to think about all the brush farmers that weren't even marked on the map.

His hands gripped the chair arms so tightly his claws left marks on the stone.

_'Patience, patience,'_ he thought to himself, barely restraining his eyes from flashing red.

_'He cannot hide from me.'_

Going to the window again, he saw Avalina crossing the courtyard, before making a detour over to the stable that held the gwythaint.

He saw her converse with Creeper, and he bit back a soft growl as the goblin shoved the door to the stable open in a clear invitation inside.

He headed smoothly down through the castle and out into the courtyard, baring his fangs.

That gwythaint was aggressive. Even more so than it had been before its mate had died. It would attack anyone it did not recognize immediately and without fear, for it was a predator, and its job was to do anything the Horned King ordered of it. It wouldn't realize Avalina was supposed to be here.

His hands clenched tightly as he heard the creature roar from inside the stable, followed by Avalina's screaming. That goblin was going to get it if she was. . .

He felt her aura a split second before the girl rocketed out of the stable door and collided with him, and he instinctively grabbed her with one arm to keep himself from falling as he stumbled backwards, snarling in surprise and pain, his other arm held out for balance.

His old wounds from the wolf attack were making themselves known.

After they had both regained their balance, she had leaped away from him in horror, and he had let her go. He disliked being touched and it was obvious she felt the same way about him.

Now that he could see that she was alright, he had let his anger out. He hadn't saved that girl from her death two weeks ago just so she could get herself killed in his own courtyard!

Avalina had tried to defend the goblin from him, obviously he afraid he would hurt the creature.

To his own surprise, he had not choked the Creeper like he normally would have, instead letting him off with a warning glare. The realization that the animal was chained up, and therefore unable to hurt the girl, was probably the reason.

He was all set to forbid Avalina from going near the stable, but after a moment, changed his mind.

She loved animals a lot, he had observed, and since there was a rather noticeable shortage of life around here, he could understand why she would be drawn to anything that moved, even if they were dangerous.

She longed for something with life.

It was this that prompted him to take her into the stable and show her the gwythaint, not that he was expecting much. The creature had only ever let himself and the goblin approach it, and the Horned King could not even get within ten feet of the animal. Even for a predator that caused death itself, his aura was too much.

But she would be able to see it, at least.

The goblin had told the truth, it was chained securely to its perch, so that it would not have been able to reach Avalina earlier.

Glancing over at her, he saw her watching the gwythaint fearfully, and he frowned.

That would not do.

Being a predator, the animal fed off fear as much as it did meat, and it would intimidate you if it could.

After some prodding, her had gotten the girl to step up to the stall, but he could never have expected what happened next.

The animal had actually allowed Avalina to touch it, and not only that, but was perfectly content to let her fawn over it, spreading out its wings for her to admire, half-closing its eyes as her hands ran over its scales.

It may as well have been a dog looking for attention.

The Horned King could only stare in shock. He had never seen this happen in the entirety of his existence. It never happened. Even Creeper could not do that, and he was the animal's groom, but it was obvious the animal did not really care for him doing so.

But this. . .the gwythaint was actually leaning into Avalina's touch, allowing her to scratch it behind the horns and nearly enfolding her inside its massive wings.

It was actually being friendly.

No, it was being way more than just friendly.

It was exhibiting symptoms of maternal behavior towards the girl.

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	70. Chapter 70

Chapter 70

"I thought dragons only existed in fairytales," Avalina told him timidly as she slid the bolt over the door.

The Horned King turned his gaze on her as she came up.

"It is a gwythaint. It is a type of. . .false dragon, you could say."

"Oh."

Avalina paused.

"She's very beautiful."

"Hm."

The Horned King began to slowly walk back to the castle, and to his surprise, Avalina walked alongside him.

Realizing what Avalina had said, he turned to her again.

"She?" He questioned.

"Yes sir," Avalina answered, before frowning a little. "You didn't know it was a female?"

"Does it matter?"

"I don't know," Avalina told him timidly. "I just thought that since you had her, you'd know."

"It is nearly impossible to tell the difference between gwythaints," he told her. "They are all but identical. And I never bothered to observe."

After a pause, Avalina spoke again.

"Where's its mate?"

"Its dead," the Horned King answered in his monotone voice. "Or so Creeper tells me."

"Oh. What's her name?"

"She doesn't have one."

"Why? Everything needs a name!"

The Horned King withheld a huff.

"Then you may name her."

"Really?"

He nodded.

After a second, she spoke again.

"I've never seen a gwythaint before."

"You wouldn't have," he replied. "They are very uncommon and not native to Prydain."

"Does that mean they're rare?"

"For the most part."

"If they're so rare, how did you get a couple?"

"I have my ways."

"Were they hard to train?"

"I don't know. I didn't train them."

"Who did?"

"He's dead."

"Oh."

After an awkward silence Avalina tried again.

"Have you ever rode one?"

Here, the Horned King looked back to her as the castle door closed behind them, a faint thread of surprise twinging inside him at the question.

"No. Why would you ask that?"

"Its the size of a horse, I just thought you might have ridden it sometime."

"Nothing lets me ride it."

"Oh."

_'Boy, that was a really stupid question,' _Avalina thought to herself.

_'If he can't even get close to an animal how is he supposed to ride it?'_

After a moment, she piped up again, walking alongside him. Thankfully, the halls were rather wide, allowing her to stay out of his aura and keep pace with him.

"How big do gwythaints get, usually?"

"Usually about the size of the one you saw, more or less. The size variety is not great."

"Do they come in all colors, or just one?"

"I do not know. I acquired the one in the stable from a dark place at a mountain where the sun rarely shown. The gwythaints in the desert are paler to blend in with their surroundings, as are the other types."

"Wow!"

Avalina nearly skipped in excitement at all she was learning.

"Have you ever seen a real dragon?"

"Yes. It was as large as two peasant houses put together, and as aggressive as a pack of starving wolves."

"What did it look like?"

The Horned King gave a soft sigh, but continued.

"Its scales were the color of bronze, and it was built like a gwythaint, only with four legs and much, much larger."

"Did it really breathe fire?" Avalina asked excitedly. "Momma says that's not physically possible, but neither are bees. Theoretically, their wings are way too small to even lift them off the ground, but they do anyway."

The corner of the Horned King's mouth twitched up faintly. She seemed to know quite a lot for a peasant.

"Almost, although I've heard tales from people that have actually seen firebreathers. This one in particular spat lava."

Avalina's eyes grew huge.

"Really?"

The corner of the Horned King's mouth twitched up again.

"Yes."

"But doesn't lava only come from volcanoes?"

"Most types. Some types of dragons make their own inside their bodies, though."

"How could they do that?" Avalina asked in awe.

"They eat rocks and digest them into a lava-like substance."

"That's amazing!"

"It isn't when its spitting at you."

Avalina gave a small grin.

"How'd you get away?"

"I ordered my men to cause a rockslide. It temporarily buried the animal and gave us the distraction we needed to escape."

"How do you know so much about dragons?"

"I study."

"Is it hard?"

"Not really."

"Could I learn?"

"In this area of the world, you would be better suited to learning about other things."

"But what's wrong with learning about dragons?"

"Nothing's wrong with it, but people will look at you very strangely if you ever bring the subject up. People in Prydain do not believe in dragons."

"Why not?"

"They don't believe things they think to be mere old legends from other lands."

"But that's a little silly!" Avalina exclaimed.

"I mean, I'd always hoped dragons were real, but I never thought I'd actually see one! Would they believe if they saw?"

"Most likely. But why did you hope dragons were real?" The Horned King questioned in his dead voice, looking at her.

"They bring nothing but destruction."

"Not all the time," Avalina said. "Yours didn't in the stable!"

"Very well," the Horned King answered her.

"What other types of mythical creatures have you seen?"

"I can't think of any more at the moment."

"When you do think of them, would you tell me? I want to know if unicorns exist too!"

The Horned King stopped walking, having arrived at Avalina's destination, his mouth twitching faintly again, which made Avalina smile.

"Well, I guess I better wash up for supper," she told him as the door to her room swung open.

"I'm really dusty."

"Do tell," he replied, before turning away.

"I will see you tonight."

Grinning, Avalina nodded and slipped inside her room, the door sliding shut.

_'Did I just have an actual conversation with him?'_ She asked herself, scarcely able to believe it.

_'I think I did. And for just a little bit,'_ she thought, hardly able to keep from dancing in place,_ 'I didn't feel scared of him any more!'_

Her joy seemed transferred to the Invisible in the room with her, as a breeze whooshed about the place.

_'Today was great!'_ She thought joyfully as she went into the washroom and closed the door.

_'I got to meet a gwythaint, dragons are real, and I almost made the Horned King smile.'_

Unable to contain her joy, she laughed out loud in earnest, throwing a fist into the air.

_'It was awesome!'_

* * *

**Don't forget to review! Also, 70th chapter anniversary today! LOL**


	71. Chapter 71

Chapter 71

The Horned King had lingered after the meal that night, talking with Avalina and telling her more about dragons, gwythaints and other beasts he had encountered from other lands. And she had been completely fascinated by it all.

She had asked so many questions. . .eventually, the conversation had drifted, and he had discovered they were now talking about horses.

Avalina loved horses with a passion. She loved Mitternacht with a passion, he could see it written all over her face whenever she talked about the stallion.

Now it had been his turn to ask questions. Not being able to approach any living creature had limited his knowledge of them. He asked her about different types, the different names and types of the equipment parts and the endless variety of color combinations, and she had answered them all, telling him that what Mueric hadn't told her, she had picked up from books.

That was something else she loved. She loved reading.

They had talked about books and literature for the remainder of the night, and the Horned King had been thoroughly enjoying himself for the first time since he could remember, when the clock had struck midnight and he had dismissed her for the night, noticing how tired she looked under all that excitement.

His chambers seemed quieter than usual tonight. Compared to the chatter that had went on all evening, he realized just how silent his chambers had always been.

It was like a tomb in here. How could he not have noticed before?

And how could he not have known his gwythaint was a female? After all the time he'd had them. The other one must have been a male. Gwythaints mated for life, but other than that, they were usually solitary creatures, unless in the rare instances siblings would remain together in groups until they found mates of their own.

Its behavior around Avalina had shocked him. Not just the friendly, accepting part.

He had studied gwythaints a lot, and what the one in his stable had been doing was exhibiting a maternal, protective behavior around Avalina.

He had never seen that type of behavior in gwythaints around anything except their own young, whom they guarded with a ferocious intensity.

The Horned King didn't understand it.

And tonight. . .she had talked to him for hours without a single trace of fear, whether it be in her voice or her actions. And he had been surprised to find that the monotony of his own mental state had lifted.

She could provide exceptional conversation for someone her age, and the Horned King realized he had gotten more mental stimulation than he had in a very long time.

And for the first time in his existence that he could remember, he had someone to talk to that wasn't so terrified of him they could scarcely speak.

And they happily talked right back.

He glanced down at the light bandage covering the stitches on his right arm, thinking.

He could still hear her thanking him for saving her life, right before she had gone out like a light.

He remembered that he had never thanked her back, at the excuse that if she had not ran away nothing would have happened. In truth, if he had not lost his temper and frightened her she never would have fled in the first place.

But since when had the Horned King thanked anyone?

The answer was simple. Never. And because of that, he had no idea how to go about it.

He felt that he should show her some form of appreciation for doing what she did. Something to let her know that he remembered. Actions were louder than words, and he did not believe that a simple "Thank-You," would be quite enough for Avalina being honorable. . .no, although that was indeed something she possessed, that was not the word he sought. . .the closest thing would be merciful, he supposed. Merciful enough to save her most hated enemy from a well-deserved death.

He would never have expected anything of the sort from anyone, and yet this girl had done more in that one moment to save his life than anyone else in the entire world would ever even think of doing.

Sitting there, he felt a nagging feeling come over him that he had been pushing away for some time, but it refused to leave now. He had no idea what it was, and it irritated him thoroughly. It was not a pleasant feeling, and he wished he knew what it was, so he could make this persistent, dragging ache in his chest go away.

Perhaps it was the mortal feeling they called. . .guilt? It might have been guilt. But why would he be feeling guilty? For hurting Avalina, maybe?

He snorted. He had killed thousands upon thousands, and now he was feeling guilty for giving a peasant a little bruising.

The door flew open as the Invisibles crashed inside.

"YOU WANTED US?!"

The Horned King calmly gritted his teeth and spoke.

"Yes. I want you to make something."

Deliberately, he lay the rolls of parchment down on the table by his chair, mere moments before they were whipped up into the air and unfolded.

Gasps from the Invisibles filled the room.

"You. . ."

"Want us. . ."

"To make. . ."

". . .this?" They squeaked.

The Horned King nodded once in affirmative.

"By tomorrow."

". . .Oh, well that's not so bad. . ."

"Yeah, we have a full twenty three hours! Can we do it?" One shouted enthusiastically.

". . .Nope."

"Nada."

"You got any tacos?"

"Guys!" The first shouted, "This is serious!"

"We KNOW THAT!" They bellowed back. "But doing it in twenty three hours? You must be joking."

The Horned King frowned.

"You have less than twelve."

"Um. . .no, I'm pretty sure we have twenty three, Horatio, old buddy. You said tomorrow."

"Um. . ." Another Invisible interrupted the first, (Or was it the same one?) "Its one o'clock in the morning. What used to be 'Tonight' has officially become, 'Yesterday.'"

"In that case," the Horned King corrected himself, "You have less than. . ."

The clock gonged the half-hour.

"Eleven. So get to work."

". . .We can't do this in eleven hours!" One of them exclaimed in a horrified voice, flapping the paper around for emphasis.

"YES WE CAN!"

"YES WE CAN!"

The others bellowed back enthusiastically, shocking the first.

". . .What is wrong with you two? First we have twenty three hours, and you say no, and then we have less than half a day and you say we can? What is your problem?"

"Ha! Twenty three hours is so last year," one of the Invisibles snorted.

"Yeah, I don't know how in Orion's Belt you expected us to go THAT slowly. Jeez, what do you think we are, molasses in February?"

"Do either of you realize how little time we have?" The first shrieked wildly, flapping the paper. "And how big this thing is?"

"Of course we do! We're not stupid!"

"Right on!" The other answered. "Now pour me a glass of tea."

"And cookies. We must have cookies."

"WHAT!?" The first screamed.

"WE HAVE LESS THAN ELEVEN HOURS AND YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT FOOD!"

"Annnd. . ."

". . . . . .Your point is?"

"DO EITHER OF YOU CARE-!?"

"Sheesh, calm down, Dusty Rainbow," one of the two snorted. "They don't call us the "Handy-Record-Fixer-Upper's-That-Take-Time-Off-For-Pranks-And-Sugar-Duo for nothin'."

"Sooooooo don't you worry," The second sang in a low voice.

"About a thing," the other picked up, before they pitched in together in perfect harmony.

"Cause every little thing. . .Is gonna be alright!"

"Cause every little thing. . .Is gonna be alright!"

"Alright!"

"Right on!"

"We'd love to stay and chat, Horatio, but our evening's just got packed," one of them said cheerfully as the first Invisible stormed out and slammed the door, muttering something about irresponsible idiots.

"We've got to do all of our diabolical planning now instead of later."

"Yep, later's gonna be full of a project that'll take about as long as peeling a landscape on a potato."

"When you're a ninja."

"An artistic ninja."

"HI-YAW!"

"HI-YAR!"

Cackling, they laughed together.

"SO WE MIGHT AS WELL START RIGHT NOW!"

"SO WE MIGHT AS WELL START RIGHT NOW!"

The Horned King had no time to react as a large, old, fishy-smelling net came down on his head, entangling itself horribly into his horns and falling down all around him in thick folds.

Snarling, he tried to rise, only to find that he couldn't. They had netted him to the chair.

"Bye-bye, Horatio!" One of them cackled.

"Now we want you to sit there and think about what you've done!" Another squeaked in a high-pitched voice.

"We have work to do!"

"Release me this INSTANT!" The Horned King roared, his eyes flashing blood red.

"Well, you see, due to our limited schedule, we can either release you from that horrible mess, or we can fix up the item you planned for us to do," one of them said cheerfully.

"So which one will it be, Horny, old boy? Get free or have your plans ruined?"

The Horned King snarled in white-hot fury, realizing he'd been beaten.

"I think he chose the latter."

"Me too."

"Mark my words, you wretched slaves," he bit out, glaring flames at the air in front of the door, "That. . .item. . .had better be nothing but the complete, absolute best, or so help me I will find a way to make you pay."

"Its so touching, isn't it? He's putting others before himself for a change!"

"I'm gonna cry, do you have a tissue?"

The sounds of blowing noses disappeared as the door was closed, leaving the Horned King trapped in his chambers, netted to his seat.

Calling them everything under the boiling sun, the Horned King began to snap apart the net, one tiny hole at a time, cursing everything imaginable at the Invisibles and then some.

He could rip himself free, it would just take a while.

A very. . .long. . .while.

His temper frayed to the final thread and his pride on the back burner, he roared so loudly the stones shook.

"CREEPER!"

* * *

**Thank you to everyone that reviews! Ya'll make my day when you do! XD**


	72. Chapter 72

Chapter 72

Shshshshshshshshsh. . . .

The sound of a thousand soft whisperings and hundreds of nature's little drums all beating their own individual tempo without the slightest one out of line, was what gently stirred Avalina from her deep sleep.

Pom-pat-pitta-pat-pom!

Barely awake, she lay there with her eyes closed, listening to Nature's lullaby as the gentle rain shower fell down in a soothing rhythm.

_'I love rain,'_ she thought sleepily.

_'Things always feel better after a good rain.'_

Titta-tat-splash-splat-splish!

Avalina could all too well remember the last time it had rained. It had been the night she'd been stranded here at the castle.

It wasn't the best recollection of rain to have.

Yesterday when she'd been exercising Mitternacht, it had been impossible not to notice how thirsty the ground was, how the rock hard earth cried out for relief underneath that flat blanket of dead grass.

This was exactly what everything needed. A good, steady shower that wasn't too hard. Without water, nothing could ever hope to survive. Except maybe the Horned King, that is.

Her muddled, sleepy thoughts took another tack.

_'How long have I been here?'_

She opened her eyes a little more, yawning as she stretched to face the day, trying to remember.

_'If the Invisibles' little scratch calendar is anything to go by,' she thought, wiping the sleep from her eyes as she looked over to the corner of her room, 'I've been here for. . .two months.'_

Her eyes snapping completely open, she leapt out of bed and hurried to the other corner of the room to look at the post closer, counting up the marks that had been cut into it.

She counted once, twice, and then again for good measure, and came up with the same number every time. It was eight weeks on the dot today.

Two months she'd been here.

Weakly, she sat down in her chair, hardly able to comprehend it.

_'Two months,'_ she thought numbly, staring into the fire in the hearth.

_'Eight weeks. I've been here eight weeks.'_

Avalina didn't understand how time could fly, and yet seem to crawl along so slowly at the same time.

It may as well have been only a few days ago that she'd been blown in by a thunderstorm here. Might as well have been a year since the wolf attack. And certainly a century since she'd been home.

Fighting down a sudden impulse to cry, she walked to the window and looked outside.

She had been leaving it open at night for several nights now. The breeze, although eerie, was pleasant, and the roof extended far enough out from above that the rain didn't drip inside and soak the floor. Of course, if the wind started blowing really hard she would have to close it, but until then. . .

The entire world looked dreary this morning. Everything was covered in sheets and shades of watery grey that blurred everything together if you didn't bother to really look.

The courtyard below looked the dreariest. The vast belt of dead grass that stretched for miles outside the moat looked slightly less so.

The lake was a dull grey today instead of the normal blue-ish color, but the only thing that stood out at all was the rolling forested hills of Prydain that rose up outside the Horned King's realm. They looked so *green*! Avalina couldn't keep from smiling, feeling happier as she looked at them.

At home, she and Mitternacht loved to gallop through the forest in almost any kind of weather. Each type had its own charm and beauty.

Her mother had never liked her riding in the rain, and at first, Avalina hadn't liked it either. But the horse had, so she had suffered with it for his sake. And then she realized that she rather liked it too. From then on, that was the only time she liked being out in the rain and getting soaked.

What a marvelous day it would be to ride, if only she could go to those rolling hills. . .but she could not. She was a prisoner inside this castle full of Death, and she could never, ever leave. She could only watch.

After breakfast, she went to the stable to care for Mitternacht, trying to stay cheerful, but the depressing thoughts of this morning and the grey sky didn't help her effort much.

"You know, boy," she told Mitternacht as she brushed him down, "I think I'll play that one song for the Horned King today about rain. It fits the atmosphere rather well. What do you think?"

The horse looked around at her to nuzzle her hands for treats, before pointedly staring over at his saddle and stamping a hoof.

"I'm sorry boy," she told him softly as she scratched behind his ears, "But we can't go riding today. The mud outside's probably several inches deep, and we wouldn't have a whole lot of time. I'm due at the music room in an hour and I need to stay mostly clean."

Mitternacht groaned in contentment as she rubbed his ears, bobbing his head back and forth without a care in the world.

"I'm telling you, Mitternacht," Avalina told him, "I envy you very much sometimes. You're easier to please than nearly every person I know. And you're a great listener."

The horse flicked his ears back to listen to her as she brushed out his tail.

"Last night was the best time I've had since I've been here, Mitternacht. Other than being with you, of course. Normally I have this big, twisting knot in my stomach every single second I'm around the Horned King, and I have trouble doing anything cause I'm so scared I might do something to make him angry. But last night, we actually had a genuine conversation, and I forgot to be afraid of him for a little while."

Avalina grabbed another handful of that wavy, shining mass and starting on it.

"He knows so much about so many different things. I wonder if he would teach me if I asked him. The problem is, I'm too afraid to ask him to do something like that. He might get angry or say I'm not worth his time."

Avalina swept the brush over the shining haunches in smooth strokes, going down his back legs as she did so.

"Sometimes when I sing for him, I can sense his loneliness. His despair. And they are so heavy. He hides everything behind that emotionless wall of stone, but the music coaxes his feelings out just barely enough for me to sense them. And I wish. . .I wish I could make them go away, somehow. I hate seeing people upset."

The horse switched his tail as she worked around to his mane.

"I mean, I know I should hate him for everything he's done too, but I'm having a lot of trouble doing that, ever since he saved my life. And last night. . .for a while, it was actually like I was speaking to a person, instead of a. . .monster."

The horse snorted and buried his nose in her arms, making her laugh suddenly.

"I'm sorry," she laughed as she kissed his forehead, "Have I told you that you're my guardian angel lately?"

The horse gave a rumbling whinny in his throat and blew softly against her stomach as she continued to brush out his mane.

"You're welcome."

* * *

Avalina entered the music room feeling happier than she ever had when the Horned King was waiting for her on the other side of a door.

She studied his face as he turned away from the window to acknowledge her presence, before gracefully sitting down in the chair.

"Hello, sir," she said timidly, her stomach beginning to twist up in that old fear again.

He seemed a bit surprised that she would speak to him voluntarily, but after a moment, his dull monotone answered.

"Hello, Avalina."

Too nervous to really say anything else, she sat at the piano and began to play. She had managed to learn a few new songs this week, and she hoped he would like them.

The lich listened as the notes and her voice flowed together smoothly. If he had been anyone else, he fancied he may have become light enough to flit about the room like a fairy, but he was not anyone else. He was the Horned King. Regardless, the music eased some of the weight in his chest, if only for a little while.

As the hour drew to a close, Avalina turned around to look nervously at him.

"I thought this one fitted today really well," she said timidly. "I-I hope you like it."

"I like everything you play."

The words had escaped before he could stop himself. He stiffened slightly in irritation at himself, before she smiled at him, blushing furiously, and turned back to the piano and lightly tapping a key, waiting a moment before tapping another.

The Horned King had noticed that for the past few weeks or so, her music had became more light-hearted in tone, more cheerful. She still played some that were rather melancholy, but all around she seemed a little happier.

For some reason this faintly pleased him.

The two notes she was hitting got faster, before the song opened up and a few more keys voiced themselves, and Avalina's high, cheerful voice lightly sang out into the room.

"Drip drip drop little April shower

Beating a tune as you fall all around

Drip drip drop little April shower

What can compare with your beautiful sound?

Beautiful sound

Beautiful sound!

Drip drop, drip drop!"

The steady shower outside lent the perfect backnoise to the song, and Avalina's voice danced all about like a joyful bird. The Horned King didn't think he had ever heard her do a song this cheerful before.

"Drip drip drop when the sky is cloudy

Your pretty music'll brighten the day

Drip drip drop when the sky is cloudy

You come along with a song right away

Come with your beautiful music!"

The Horned King closed his eyes for a moment to let the song wash over him, accented by the rain outside.

"Drip drip drop little April shower

Beating a tune as you fall all around

Drip drip drop little April shower

What can compare with your beautiful sound?"

Avalina's fingers danced over the keys, and she couldn't stop grinning as she went into the next verse. This one was the fastest for her to do, and the most challenging to sing, but she loved it regardless.

"Drip drip drop When the sky is cloudy

You come along (Come along)

With a pretty little song

Drip drip drop When the sky is cloudy

You come along (Come along)

With a pretty little song!"

Here was the hardest part, and Avalina took a deep breath and prayed her voice wouldn't break.

"Gay little roundelay! (Gay little roundelay!)

Song of the rainy day! (Song of the rainy day!)

How I love to hear you patter

Pretty little pitter patter!

Helter skelter, when you pelter

Troubles always seem to scatter!"

After going into the first verse again, Avalina paid more attention to the keys she was hitting. The next part was an instrumental, meaning that if just one note was off, there would be nothing to hide it.

The Horned King listened as the song went from bouncing and happy to dark and slightly sinister at the drop of a hat. By the rolls of notes coming out of the. . .piano. . .the "April Shower" the song spoke of had morphed into a windy thunderstorm.

Right on cue, the wind and rain outside picked up, the howling outside matching the thunderous tones coming from the instrument.

It built to a staggering crescendo over the course of nearly two minutes, and the Horned King was held spellbound for every second of it.

Finally, the wind died outside, and in turn the music sank down into a delicate tinkling of little notes, sounding very much like the patter of raindrops after the storm had exhausted itself, before Avalina softly finished the song.

"Drip drip drop little April shower

Beating a tune as you fall all around

Drip drip drop little April shower

What can compare with your beautiful sound?

Beautiful sound. . . . ."

After the song had finished, the only sound was the falling rain outside as Avalina turned around on the bench, watching him.

The Horned King was silent for such a long moment she wondered if he had forgotten she was there, before he finally turned her way.

"That was. . .cheerful."

Avalina's heart fell.

"You didn't like it, sir?"

The Horned King looked at her again for a moment, realizing she had misconstrued his words.

"I enjoyed it very much," he replied. "All of it."

Avalina's eyes lit up in relief as he rose from his seat, before they dimmed a little in uncertainty as he crossed the room to her. He tried not to notice how she stiffened when he approached.

"I do not believe the Invisibles have given you a tour of the castle yet?" He questioned.

"No sir," Avalina said softly, her hands gripping the sides of the bench. "B-but I never asked them," she said hurriedly, not wanting them to get in trouble.

"Would you like one?"

Avalina smiled timidly, but nonetheless enthusiastically up at him as she stood.

"Oh, yes please!"

"Then come."

She eagerly followed the lich out, keeping out of his aura but thanks to the wide hall, still able to walk alongside him.

"Is it true that all castles have balconies or is that just something in fairytales?"

The sound of the two talking gradually faded as they disappeared down the hall.

* * *

**Everything goes to Lloyd Alexander and Disney. I own my OC's and the story.**

**Just for fun, can anyone guess what the song was I used in this chapter? XD Take a guess in the review section and I'll answer either at the end of the next chapter or the one after, depends on how many people participate XD.**


	73. Chapter 73

Chapter 73

Avalina followed the Horned King all over the castle as he showed her everything the massive structure contained.

She had only seen a small part of it before, and the sheer size of it from the inside was just as staggering as the outside. The Horned King told her which rooms were which, in between her questions and his replies.

Most of her fear had subsided, but at this proximity to the lich, she still felt a very deep terror of him, despite the rather civil conversation they were having. The weight of just *who* he was, and *what* he was, pressed against Avalina heavily, and she still felt the bile rise in her throat when she looked at him for too long.

If he noticed her discomfort he made no mention of it, and she was determined to make good conversation while she had him talking, although his very voice made her hair stand on end and her blood freeze.

Exploring the entire castle took several hours, and she was thankful for the Horned King's slow, deliberate pace. Without it she would have been worn out.

The went up and down flights of stairs, walked endless halls, and Avalina knew that there would be no way possible she could ever remember all of this.

The Horned King may have noticed the overwhelmed expression on her face, for he told her, "You may explore anywhere you wish, except below the dungeon level. The Invisibles will guide you back if you lose your way."

Avalina timidly asked, "What's down there?"

"Nothing of your concern."

Shivering under his stare, she asked no more of the subject.

As they approached another door, Avalina sensed the Invisibles all around, and one of them whispered something to the Horned King. She pretended not to hear the little breeze, for they had said they were not allowed to communicate with her, and she didn't wish to get them in trouble.

The Horned King gave the faintest of nods, before turning to her, gesturing for her to go in front.

"Go on."

The doors swung open, and Avalina looked back at him, wondering what he was getting at.

"But there's no torches."

"Just go in."

Her nerves on high-alert with the Horned King directly behind her, out of her sight, she tiptoed inside, before she felt the breeze sweep about and all the torches lit simultaneously.

Avalina's eyes widened as she gasped out loud, putting a hand to her mouth.

The room was massive, easily the size of the dining hall, lined wall to wall and floor to ceiling with large shelves. Rows of them extended the length of the room down the center, leaving walkways between each one, with ladders to reach the higher areas.

And they were brimful of books. Every single one.

Avalina could only stare in dumbfounded shock as she stared all around, completely at a loss for words. She had never seen this many books in her life. She hadn't even known this many existed. She had seen the royal castle's library, but it had nothing on this one. Apparently the royal family didn't appreciate reading as much as she'd thought.

Books. Books everywhere. Anywhere. The entire room was filled to the ceiling with them. She could read to her heart's content and then some.

"You. . .don't like it?"

The Horned King's voice dredged out behind her, making her jump. She had forgotten he was there.

Turning to him, she said a little breathlessly, "Its. . .its beautiful! Whatever made you think I wouldn't love it?"

"You're crying."

Avalina brushed her cheeks, realizing it was true, and she thought that just for a split second, he looked almost disappointed.

"No, no!" She hastened to reassure him, "These are happy tears, not sad ones."

The Horned King looked slightly puzzled.

". . .I have never seen someone cry because they're happy. How can you tell the difference?"

Avalina nearly laughed.

"I don't know! You can just. . .tell."

Turning back to the room, she made a weak gesture, her words nearly coming out as a whisper, "I had no idea there were so *many* books in the world! It'll take me the rest of my life to read them all! And maybe three more lifetimes on top of that!"

The Horned King gestured towards a small ring of furniture near the fireplace on the left side of the room.

"Well then, I suppose you had better get started."

In a daze, Avalina slowly walked down one of the pathways between the shelves, reading the titles on the spines and wondering just which one to pick up first. They all looked so interesting!

The soft rattle of breath behind her made her turn and nearly jump out of her skin at how close the Horned King was to her.

"I. . .This. . ."

She furrowed her brows slightly. The Horned King seemed to be struggling with himself, and she slightly inclined her head to the side, puzzled by this behavior.

"Yes?" She asked him curiously, wondering what he was trying to voice.

"Think of this as a gift of gratitude for. . .saving my life."

It sounded like he had choked that sentence out rather unwillingly, but Avalina heard the sincerity in it, and felt her heart grow warm.

"You're welcome, sir," she answered softly. "And thank you."

* * *

Arran turned the horse and plow around at the end of the field, before stopping the horse in the shade of the forest.

They had been working for hours, and both of them needed a break. It had rained thoroughly all day yesterday, and the ground was awful wet to work. But it had to be done.

Clipping the feedbag to the mare's muzzle, Arran sat down with his own sandwich to rest.

It had been almost a month since he had acquired the animal, and he had to say, he couldn't have made a better choice.

The chestnut draft mare obeyed all his commands, and was as patient and willing a beast as he had ever seen. She was good and steady, reliable and well-trained. She was much better than the black beast Arran had had to work before.

His sister had worked, rather. The horse had grudgingly tolerated him when Avalina was around, but if for some reason she would disappear he would balk and refuse to obey his commands. He could swear the animal had laughed at him during these instances, and it felt so good to have something that would actually listen to him, especially since he had never been fond of horses in general.

Arran couldn't help but think about his little sister. He thought about her every single day, wondering if she was alright, if she was even still alive.

They were not pleasant things to ponder, and it was worsened by the fact that Arran knew he had failed her. He had failed his father, his mother, and Avalina, because he hadn't been able to do a single thing to prevent her from going back to that monster. His hands had been completely tied. Oh, if only he knew she would be able to get away in time, he would gather a mob and storm that castle and make that monster pay. . .

The mare quit chewing, pricking her ears toward the path that led into the field.

Arran noticed this, right before he heard the cantering sound of hooves.

In a flash he was on his feet, his heart thumping in his chest as he said a silent prayer.

_'Could it be? Has my sister come home?'_

A dark colored horse came out of the trees, before the rider saw him and cantered in his direction.

Arran's heart had soared for a moment when he had seen the dark animal, before immediately dropping into his shoes.

It wasn't her.

The brush farmer cantered up on his horse, a mostly black animal with a brownish, faded look to his coat. Arran privately preferred the type of black his sister's horse had been.

"Hey, Arran!" He called.

"Hello, Yale!" Arran called, trying to swallow his bitter disappointment, "I haven't seen you in a while! Is something wrong?"

Yale was one of the closest neighbors Arran and his family had. As in, a day's ride away type of close. But that's how it was out here, and Arran's first thought that if someone was to ride all that way, something might be wrong.

"No, nothing's wrong, but I came across somethin' mighty strange today."

Arran's heart clenched.

"Like what?" He asked, trying his best to keep his voice casual.

"Well," Yale drawled, leaning back on his horse, "It'd actually be just better if ah showed ye, if you got a spare hour."

Arran looked over at the mare, who was finished eating, but the heat was telling on her. A short ride would be nothing to the massive horse, however, if they stayed in the shade.

"I've got time."

About an hour later, they were walking down the road toward the nearest village, talking.

"So, how's your family?" Yale asked. "How's that sweet sister of yours?"

Arran gritted his teeth and willed himself to sound convincing.

"We're all alright, thank you."

Arran and his mother were determined to keep Avalina's absence a secret, for if anyone ever found out that she was missing, and where she was, the entire country would panic and Avalina's life would be in danger. If she were still alive, that is.

"Gah, what is that *smell?*" Arran choked as the horrid smell of rotting flesh entered his nose and mouth. "What died?"

Yale dismounted. "You'll see, but we better leave the horses here. They don't like it."

After walking on foot for several minutes, both of the men were forced to tie their handkerchiefs over their faces to try and keep the nauseating stench out.

Not daring to speak, Yale simply pulled Arran's sleeve and gestured to the clearing in front of them.

Arran's eyes widened in horror at what he was seeing.

Skeletons of what might have been wolves at one time lay all around the clearing, nearly filling it completely. It was obvious no scavengers had tried to clean the mess away, for nothing had been touched.

The white bones gleamed brightly through the rotting flesh that covered some of them, flies, gnats and maggots crawling all over them, through the matted fur.

The clearing was a rotting battlefield.

The skeletons were not perfect, either. Broken ribs, fractured spines, necks and smashed skulls were everywhere. Not one was unbroken.

Arran could only stare numbly.

_'What in the name of Orion could have done this?'_

Arran nearly jumped out of his skin when Yale drew his attention to one skeleton hanging limply from a tree limb, its skull smashed to nothing.

Yale picked up a stick and walked over to one of the skeletons, motioning for Arran to look.

Willing himself not to vomit, Arran leaned over to look at what Yale wanted him to notice.

One of the toes on the wolf's feet was missing.

Standing up, Arran began to count the rotting bodies that lay all around, his eyes getting bigger with every one.

When he was finished, Yale walked him down nearly a quarter mile into the forest, and the scene nearly made Arran leap out of his skin.

Two wolf skeletons lay impaled on the sharp limbs of a massive log that lay across the path. The image looked just as sinister as the clearing had, particularly when you took into account the scratch marks all around their skulls and feet. They had died very, very slowly.

The stench, although still bad, was not so bad that the men couldn't speak to each other, and Yale choked out, "There's one more another quarter mile down through there. It got rammed into a tree and broke its skull."

Arran counted those up too, before Yale beckoned back toward the road.

Yanking off their masks as they approached the horses, letting the slightly cleaner air enter their lungs, Arran choked out, "The Mad Pack. Every single one of 'em, dead! Thirty five wolves, unless you missed one when you were scouting."

Yale gasped himself as he mounted his horse.

"What could have done that? There's no way to tell, those skeletons are a fortnight old and any tracks or evidence got washed away by the rain last night."

"I don't know," Arran choked out as they rode their horses away from the place, back towards Arran's farm.

"What could have been powerful enough to kill all of them, and then walk away unscathed?"

"I have no idea," Arran said. "But why are the other three all down there," he gestured, "And the rest of them are way up there?"

"The only thing I can think of," Yale answered, "Is that they were chasing something, and then they walked into more than they could handle."

"How many people have you told?"

"Just you and a few others."

"Then, we need to spread the word around, tell people they don't have to worry anymore," Arran said, feeling a bit of malicious triumph inside him, "Because the Mad Pack is dead. But," he said on second thought,"Tell them to be careful anyway, because whatever killed them could be roaming about. For all we know it could be infected now as well."

Yale paled a little at this, but straightened in the saddle as he and Arran parted ways.

"You bet!"

* * *

**Please don't forget to leave a review!**


	74. Chapter 74

Chapter 74

Avalina turned another page on the book she was reading, barely noticing the door to the library come open.

She had read all afternoon yesterday and well into the night, her only breaks being supper-time in the dining hall and caring for Mitternacht.

She hadn't had a chance to read in months, and she was bent on making up for lost time.

Avalina had ridden Mitternacht this morning in the muck outside, letting him get some fresh air. It smelled so clean after the rain, and everything was wet. . .and she had galloped her horse in the mud for a little bit before cleaning up for the music hour, and then heading to the library.

Raising her head as a shadow crossed the floor in front of her, she saw Creeper standing by the hearth, warming himself at the little fire.

Despite the fact that it was rather warm outside, the rooms without windows, (the library included) remained cool all the time, so fires were always going.

"Hello, Creeper," she greeted kindly.

The goblin leaped into the air with a shriek, nearly falling into the fireplace, before whipping around to glare at her.

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, "Are you alright?"

The way the furniture around the fire was positioned, he must not have seen her. Either that or he wasn't paying attention.

"What's the idea?" He snapped, the firelight reflecting eerily off his mismatched eyes.

"Are you trying to kill me?"

"No," she said apologetically, trying not to shiver at the look in his eyes. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared!"

Avalina chuckled.

"Whatever you say."

Growling, the goblin turned to leave, but Avalina stopped him.

"I really am sorry."

The goblin paused for a moment, and she took advantage of it.

"And I never got to thank you for showing me the gwythaint."

At this, the goblin turned back around to face her, his expression still a bit angry.

"Why'd you have to panic and take off screaming?"

"I thought it was going to attack me."

"You thought I'd let it?"

Avalina balked, temporarily at a loss.

"It was chained up, human, it couldn't hurt you! And I had to pay for your paranoia."

Avalina flinched at the memory.

"He could have done a lot worse. And I'd never seen a dragon. . .gwythaint," she corrected herself, "Before yesterday. I didn't know what to expect. You should have warned me what it was first!"

The goblin huffed angrily and turned away.

"But, thank you for showing her to me," Avalina said again. "She is beautiful."

". . .She?" The goblin asked, turning back around.

"You didn't know she was a girl either?"

"Of course not!" He snapped, embarrassed. "How was I supposed to tell? And what do you mean by, 'You didn't know either.' Who else didn't know?"

Avalina raised a brow slightly.

"Who else is in this entire castle besides us?"

The goblin stilled at this, and after a moment Avalina gestured to the chair across from her.

"Would you like to sit down?"

"If I wanted to, I would have."

"I wish you would."

"What's it to you?"

"Don't you ever get tired of no one to talk to?"

"No!"

"Why?"

"Because I don't get lonely!"

"I never said you were. You said that yourself."

The goblin opened his mouth a couple times, before snapping it shut. She had him there.

Grumpily, he stomped over to the chair and jumped up in it with a huff.

"Fine, human," he snarled faintly, "What is it that you want to talk about that is soooo important?"

Avalina paused.

"Well. . .um. . ."

_'Great, now I've gone blank.'_

"I don't know. What would you like to talk about?"

The goblin facepalmed, before glaring over at her with his good eye.

"How should I know? You were the one that wanted to talk in the first place!"

Catching the picture on the front of the book she was reading, an idea hit.

"Do you like flowers?"

"What. . .what kind of stupid question is that?" Creeper spluttered, staring.

"Do I *look* like the type of creature that likes *flowers?*"

It wasn't supposed to be funny. He was irritated already and Avalina was nervous. But the image of the little goblin gardening flowers all the colors of the rainbow and chasing the Invisibles all over with a spade was just too funny.

Laughing, Avalina looked over at him.

"Well, then, let's see if you can do better!"

"Fine," he snapped huffily, crossing his arms.

"Um. . .um. . .well. . ."

Avalina, laughing helplessly by this point, pointed at him through her laughter.

"Not as easy as it sounds, is it?"

Creeper snorted, but he couldn't help grinning slightly himself. Her laugh was infectious.

"Ok, ok," Avalina chuckled, "Let me try again. Do you like gwythaints?"

". . .No."

"Why not?"

"Well. . .well. . .why *not* hate them? They're just useless animals with no room for anything in their heads except survival instincts, and you have to take care of them whether you want to or not and the one in the stable ruined my life."

Avalina gaped for a moment before gathering herself.

"Well. . .that explains it."

"Explains what?"

"Exactly why Mitternacht dislikes you so much."

"What does that *horse* have to do with the gwythaint?"

"Nothing. I'm just saying that animals can pick up on whether you like them or not, and they'll act differently toward you because of it. Mitternacht tolerated Mueric because under that man's facade, he loved horses. Mitternacht could tell that a long, long time before I was able to. Whereas my brother just. . .doesn't like horses. Or animals in general, really, except on a plate. And Mitternacht knew this and distrusted him because of it. You don't like him, so its natural he would act the way he did around you."

"He almost killed me."

"But he didn't, did he?"

"What's your point, human?"

"Creeper, trust me, I've known him for years and I've seen him in killing mode. I also know when he's just playing, bluffing you into thinking he's going to. And take my word for it, if he really wanted to truly kill you, you wouldn't be here now. You'd be six feet under pushing up daisies."

"And here we are, back to flowers. Is that *all* girls talk about?"

Avalina laughed.

"No, but there's another other topic I love talking about. Which will it be, horses or flowers? Your choice!"

A silence followed.

". . .I hear the roses are lovely this time of year."

* * *

The Horned King had not noticed his feet had stopped at the entrance to the library until he looked inside and saw Avalina and Creeper sitting in chairs by the fire, talking.

After the initial faint surprise, he had been able to hear what they were saying.

"Oh, gardens are wonderful, Creeper," Avalina was telling him. "Especially flower gardens. They're so bright and pretty! There's a meadow that Mitternacht and I used to visit every day, and it always had the prettiest flowers you could ever see. And deer would graze, if you were very quiet, and squirrels would run up the branches above your head, and the birds would sing and preen their pretty feathers, and little fish would jump out of the stream and splash! There was Life everywhere you looked, you could just feel it! It was wonderful."

The Horned King would have been deaf not to hear the wistfulness in her voice.

"Why do you want a garden so much?" The goblin asked her. This grabbed the Horned King's attention.

"A garden would be wonderful, Creeper, but nothing grows here," Avalina told him softly. "This place, his lands, they are too full of Death for anything to ever grow. It would die before it even got started. If I had a bit of ground, perhaps I could try, but it could never work. Gardens need sunlight, and here there isn't any."

The Horned King got an odd, faintly heavy feeling in his chest as he listened.

He had forgotten that she had been around living things all her life. Whether they be animals, plants, trees or other people, they were all alive, and suddenly he realized what a shock to her it must have been, to give up everything with Life that she knew, to come and be his prisoner, surrounded here by nothing but Decay, so that Death would not claim the things she had given herself up to save.

He was reminded of how brave this child was, doing something grown men would not do.

Suddenly, the gift he had given her yesterday seemed rather insignificant, compared to her tremendous sacrifice. He was shaken from his musings by Avalina's voice.

"Besides, the Horned King gave me this beautiful library, any book I could ever ask for is here. I will be content to enjoy this. Reading was a privilege I was seldom granted before, and now I can read as much as I like."

_'So easy to please,' _he thought._ 'She's had everything taken from her, and still manages to be happy, while being held a prisoner of a heartless monster like me. How does she do it?'_

Slowly, he stepped away from the door so they would not see him and headed to his chambers.

_'His lands are too full of Death for anything to ever grow. Without sunlight. . .'_

_'Just as I am too full of Death myself for anything to ever change me,_' he thought heavily.

_'And without even a heart to give a scrap of hope to. . .'_

He gave a soft sigh.

_'And yet. . .every time she sings, every time she plays, I somehow become fooled into believing that it might actually be possible. That perhaps all is not lost. That perhaps, I do have. . .hope.'_

The memory of meeting the horse came to mind, followed by Avalina meeting the gwythaint, and then yesterday.

_'She actually smiled at me,'_ he remembered.

_'She stared right into my face, the face of the *Horned King*. . right into Death itself. . .and smiled like she would to a friend. And for a little while. . .she felt no fear. And for a short time I almost had. . .hope.'_

The Horned King slowly entered his chambers, pondering over this in the undead way he had.

An Invisible brushed lightly around him, indicating something.

"What is it?" He ordered coldly.

"Sire, I am sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but as of today you have thirteen moons remaining until your deadline."

The Horned King felt a shudder go through him as an image of the Cauldron flashed before his eyes.

"Leave me."

"Yes sir."

The door softly clicked shut.

* * *

**Please take the time to review people! And anyone that hasn't seen it, check out Faerydame's Youtube video tribute to this fanfiction. Type in Horned King X Avalina Save Me and it should pop right up. Also, as of yesterday the video is on page 8 when you just type in Horned King and go browsing. How cool is that? XD**

**Today I passed 2000 views. I feel like CeLeBrAtInG! XD**


	75. Chapter 75

Chapter 75

"That idiot!" The second Invisible grumbled. "Can't he see that his chance to free his soul from eternal Hell is right in front of his face?! For a sharp eyed warlord he's pretty blind."

"We might have to give him a little push, that's all," the fourth answered. "He can't ever remember feeling like this before, he doesn't even remember *what* feeling is. All he knows is that he feels different whenever he's around her, if that makes any sense."

"No, but I'll buy it anyway. Avalina's warming to him a little, we have to make sure he doesn't let this opportunity pass him by."

"Like how? Offer to be his psychiatrist? Ha! That'll end well."

"Tell, me, Sir," the third said in a deepened voice, "How are you feeling today? Perhaps you feel confused, disoriented, clueless? Well, "How-To-Be-Happy" is the guide for you! Not affiliated with "How-To-Be-Awesome" or "How-To-Be-Cray-Cray." We are not responsible for property damage that may occur in "How-To-Be-Happy" therapist sessions. Each session twenty percent off with each Rainbow Mushroom offered in exchange of actual payment. Restrictions of any type may apply, see us for details."

Chuckles came from the others, before the fourth one spoke.

"Somehow, I don't think that's going to catch on."

"Guys, back on topic!" The first one said a little irritably.

"Now, if we actually try to talk to him about this, it could destroy the slight bit of progress he's made."

"Yeah," the second said, "For some reason he really hates us."

"I really don't have a clue why," the third Invisible said. "I mean, look at us! What's not to love?"

"I'd love to look, but I can't," the fourth chuckled.

"Oh. That's why, he can't see us!"

"Guys!" The first Invisible barked. "Back on topic! Now, if we can't speak to him directly about this, then what can we do about it?"

"Go to Avalina," the second Invisible said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"No way!" The first said, horrified. "We can't ask her to tell him anything!"

"No, but what's the next best thing?" The second asked, triumph evident in its voice.

"I know, I know!" The third shouted. "Bake him a cake!"

"Great idea, but not was I was thinking of," the second chuckled. "That really *must* go on the list, though."

"What about a song?" The fourth asked.

"Exactly!" The second said happily. "I heard Avalina singing one to herself a few days ago that will be perfect for this! Let's put it where she'll find it!"

"A song?" The first asked skeptically. "You guys are nuts. That won't work."

"Wanna bet?"

"You know what, sure. What's the stakes?"

The duo whispered for a moment, before one spoke up.

"If the song doesn't work, we promise not to play a single prank for a full three days."

"Three days? That's not a prize. Two weeks."

"Five days."

"Ten days."

"One week, we refuse to go higher."

"I'll enjoy my peace and quiet."

"Not just yet. We haven't discussed your side of the deal. . . "

* * *

Avalina had time for one more song before the hour was up, and she had found the sheet music to it right on top of the piano. She wondered if the Horned King had been reading the music. . .which she didn't mind, it was his castle and his property. . .but she did notice things had been moved around a little.

Her eyes scanned the first line, and she couldn't stop a smile from working over her face. Turning on the bench, she told the Horned King, "This song is one of my all-time favorites. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do."

The Horned King nodded once, his face emotionless, although privately he wondered what it could possibly be.

The piano music was slow, but powerful. Melancholy, yet somehow resolved. All of this was gathered in an instant before the words began.

"We've heard the tales since we were young,

Heard the songs that have been sung,

About an evil spell."

_'A song about a fairytale,'_ he thought, not unpleasantly. _'I should have guessed.'_

"Someone beautiful is cursed

We feel sad through every verse

'Til a kiss and all is well!"

The Horned King arched a brow ridge faintly.

_'That's exactly how every fairytale goes. Is this song implying its all a dream? This isn't like her.'_

"The message that no one can see

Is clearer to someone like me. . . .

There is no curse or evil spell,

That's worse than one we give ourselves."

_'These words are so true. . .I gave myself this curse,'_ he thought, looking down at his hands,_ 'When I became a monster.'_

"There is no sorcerer as cruel

As the proud. . .angry fool. . ."

_'I am a proud and angry fool,'_ he thought. _'I'm too proud to hope, too angry to try, and such a fool for even thinking someone could see past. . .everything. No one can. My sorcerer was as heartless as I have become, but she could never match my cruelty now.'_

"And yet we cry, 'Life isn't fair.'

Beneath our cries the truth is there.

The power that will break the spell

We should know. . .very well. . .

Is locked. . .within. . .ourselves.

And yet we'd rather blame

And curse our Fate than change. . ."

_'I alone have the power to try to hope, try and change my Fate. No one else can save me, and no one can stop me. I must make that first step before anything can happen. I have to hope first.'_

"We'd run from everyone to hide

From the Pain. . . .

And all. . .the shame. . .

The story's old, we know it well.

About a wretched, evil spell

The power that will break this curse

Oh, I know, all too well. . .

Is locked. . .within. . .myself. . ."

_'And only I possess the key. I alone have the power to allow someone in. Like the horse let Avalina in. I'm the only one who can give myself another chance.'_

"That was beautiful," he told her, these new sensations twisting inside his chest.

_'And so very true.'_

The comment made her blush faintly.

"Thank you, sir."

After a moment, he drew in a breath. He had been wanting to ask this for some time, and he knew that if he didn't ask now he would change his mind again.

"Tell me," He ordered, his voice rather dark, "Do you ever feel. . .like there's a fire inside you that will not die?"

He bared his fangs faintly, regretting he had even asked, but Avalina did not seem to notice.

"Why. . .yes sir. All the time."

"What is it?"

Avalina seemed confused by this question, but did as he said.

"Well, it could be hope. Or joy. Or love. It depends on the situation."

He narrowed his eyes in thought. That fire that had been burning inside him for the past several weeks. . .

"I see. And when you feel like a stone is on your chest? What does that mean?"

Avalina furrowed a brow.

"Well, that really depends on the situation, but maybe it was guilt? Or despair?"

The Horned King nodded once.

_'So I have been feeling these things. They weren't tricks of the mind.'_

"Why?" Avalina asked timidly.

The Horned King fixed her with his dead gaze.

"It is nothing. You are dismissed."

Disappointed, she lowered her gaze.

"Ok."

After she had gone, he pondered on his newfound feelings.

_'So, I am actually feeling these things,' _he thought. _'But that should be impossible. I am heartless, I should not be able to feel. And yet. . .I am. Does that mean. . .that mean there may be hope for me?'_

Staring out of the window, he made his decision.

_'It may be possible. The song was true, and so were her words.'_

At this, he felt the fire renew inside his chest, and he glanced down at himself.

_'Perhaps I do have hope.'_

* * *

"I hate you," the first Invisible bit out.

"I hate you all."

"Not as much as you're going to!" The third Invisible cackled in triumph, throwing them something.

"No. You cannot be serious."

"You have no idea. You lost the bet. NOW DO IT!"

"This is stupid!"

"So was making a bet with us!" The other two cackled. "You brought this on yourself."

"There is no way. . ."

"If you don't, you know you'll rue the day you never did."

"Fine!" The first Invisible shouted, "But don't you dare expect me to do this again. EVER!"

The insane laughter from the others was all the reaction it got.

* * *

Avalina disappointedly stepped outside the music room and shut the door.

_'I tried to explain to it him,'_ she thought, _'But I don't think I did a very good job.'_

Raising her head, she realized she was hearing something from down the hall, and she turned her head to listen, right as a trolley came flying around the corner, laden with streamers and bright paper, bells and horns, making all the racket in the world. A pair of cymbals were clashing in midair above the trolley, and something was singing.

"III'M A YANKEE DOODLE DANNNNDY!

A YAAAANKEE DOODLE DO OR DIE!

A REAL LIVE NEPHEW OF MY UNCLE SAM

BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULY!

I'VE GOT A YANKEE DOODLE SWEEET-HEEEAAARRRT

SHE'S MY YANKEE DOODLE JOYYYY!"

Avalina stared in shock, flattened against the door, as they clanged past, horns blowing constantly.

"YANKEE DOODLE CAME TO TOWN

JUST TO RIDE THE PONIES

I AM A YANKEE DOODLE BOY!

Next was a very long instrumental, filled with horns, cymbals, whistles and clashes, as paper continued to spew out of the trolley to go everywhere on the floor.

Avalina gasped in fright as the door gave out on her, throwing her backwards onto the floor. The Horned King's terrifying aura twisted around her as her back hit against his legs.

"So-sorry!" She squeaked in fright as she hurriedly got up. "I didn't mean. . ."

He held up a hand for silence as she backed against the wall, before he strode out of the room and into the hall, stopping dead at the scene.

"YANKEE DOODLE CAME TO TOWN

RIDING ON A PONY

STUCK A FEATHER IN HIS CAP AND CALLED IT MACARONI!

YANKEE DOODLE KEEP IT UP

YANKEE DOODLE DANDY

MIND THE MUSIC AND THE STEP AND WITH THE GIRLS BE HANDY!

Avalina and the Horned King could only stare as the trolley continued down the hall, making the ghastly racket.

"THEN THE FEATHERS ON HIS HAT

THEY LOOKED SO VERY FINE

OH I WANTED DESPERATELY

TO GET TO GIVE TO MY JEMIMA!

YANKEE DOODLE KEEP IT UP

YANKEE DOODLE DANDY

MIND THE MUSIC AND THE STEP

AND WITH THE GIRLS BE HANDY!"

The two of them could hear the racket for a very long time after the Invisibes turned the corner and the trolley disappeared from sight.

The silence was rather awkward.

"Do they always do that?" Avalina asked.

A soft sigh came from the Horned King.

"Yes. Constantly. They never seem to enjoy themselves unless they're doing something irrational."

"What was that song they were doing? It didn't make any sense."

"Nothing they do makes any sense."

Avalina grinned as an idea came to mind.

"You think I could get the sheet music for that?"

The horrorstruck look on the Horned King's face was worth every syllable.

* * *

**(To the tune of Yankee Doodle)**

**Once there was a brand-new author**

**On Fanfiction-Dot-Net**

**She thought she'd write a sequel to**

**The dreaded movie "The Black Cauldron."**

**As the chapters kept on coming**

**So did all the views**

**She even got six followers**

**Who occasionally reviewed!**

**They showed overflowing excitement**

**Enthusiasm was through the roof**

**One even made a video**

**As a tribute on Youtube!**

**This is my little thank-you song**

**To all of those who read**

**Double-stuffed Oreos to everyone**

**Who actually review this thing!**

**L-B-G now keep it up**

**The story's far from over**

**My Plunny farm will never die**

**Because I'm just so awesome! *End***

* * *

**That's all for today, folks! LOL The song Avalina played for the Horned King is The Curse from the movie Rigoletto. I love that movie with a passion, and that song just fit. So well! XD**


	76. Chapter 76

Chapter 76

Avalina knelt in the dirt, pulling up the old dead grass that covered the ground, letting the fresh air hit the earth below.

She had timidly asked the Horned King if she could work with the land around his castle, and he had consented, warning her not to raise her hopes.

She had picked a piece of land in between the moat and the lake about a hundred yards square, the water lapping the edges, at the back of the castle. She had pulled up all the dead plants along the outside first, to give herself an outline of her workplace.

She had been working nonstop on it for days, making sure to leave time for the library and her other activities. The Invisibles had supplied her with gardening gloves and any other tool she needed, which she was thoroughly grateful for.

Something odd she noticed was that all the dead mess she pulled up disappeared when she turned away from it. She supposed it was the Invisibles work.

The reddish-black storm clouds that covered every inch of the Horned King's grounds blocked out any celestial light that might have tried to peek through, and even the birds avoided it like the plague. Not that she really blamed them. She would too.

The lake-water looked as nasty as the sky did, and Avalina did not dare to touch it. She was grateful that Mitternacht had enough sense not to drink from it either.

He stood a little ways off, ground-tied, resting after his brisk morning workout.

Finally, she rose, stretching, loosing a sigh as she surveyed her work.

Everything inside the area she had stepped off was now free of dead grass, and had been gone over roughly with the pickax. The ground was so hard the hoe had to be abandoned for the moment.

Avalina's arms and shoulders ached from swinging the heavy tool, and her hands were stiff inside the gloves, but her heart was happy.

Her back had healed nicely, and gave her no pain whatsoever now.

Tiredly, she went over to Mitternacht and swung up, before turning him toward the castle.

"Well, boy, I think I've done a good job this morning," she told him, rubbing his neck.

Noticing she still had a full hour before her daily music session, she whispered softly to him, "Want to gallop a little?"

Mitternacht snorted happily and threw his head, giving a little crowhop as he did so.

"Alright, easy boy, easy!" She laughed, keeping her seat.

"We'll have some fun."

Keeping him to a warm-up canter was hard, like it always was. He was well-mannered enough not to fight her, but she could feel him through the reins, begging for a faster gait. When there was enough open space to gallop and he was full of energy, top notch was his favorite type of speed.

She cantered him as far to the front of the castle as she could, where the Horned King's influence ended, but as she turned him around, the forest behind them, he snorted and froze, his eyes turned skyward.

Following his gaze, she looked to the sky and started a little.

Framed by the menacing clouds was the black silhouette of the gwythaint, flying overhead.

Apparently it had spotted them, for it came closer to observe, and Avalina prayed it wasn't hungry. She didn't think it would attack her, but Mitternacht. . .she stroked his neck in a calming gesture as he eyed it warily, snorting loudly, his ears pricked forward.

As it came closer in a spiraling motion, she realized the thing was going to land, and Creeper was on its back.

Waving with her free hand, she called a greeting to the goblin.

"Enjoying the day?"

The gwythaint landed several yards from the horse on an overhanging bald limb, folding its wings together as it eyed the horse curiously.

Mitternacht stamped and blew loudly through his nose, trying to figure out what this thing was. It smelled dangerous, but his rider held no fear. In fact, she seemed comfortable.

This eased his worries for the most part, but he kept his eye on the strange winged creature before them.

The goblin shrugged in answer to Avalina's question.

"Could be better."

"How so?"

"I'm bored."

"How in the world could you be bored?" Avalina asked in shock. "You were *flying!*"

"Flying where?"

Avalina gestured.

"Everywhere!"

"No, human," Creeper said bitterly, "Just *Here.*"

He indicated the dead ground around him with an exaggerated gesture.

"I can't go out either unless the master allows me to."

The Horned King had expressly told Creeper he was not to let Avalina know in the slightest what he was searching for outside the castle grounds, and Creeper, terrified, was only too happy to comply.

"Oh," Avalina said, "I'm sorry. Does the gwythaint get tired of flying around in circles?"

"Sometimes."

"She looks lonely."

"Animals don't get lonely, human."

"Oh yes, Creeper, they do," Avalina said quickly. "They feel a whole lot more than people think they do."

Creeper huffed.

"Its true!" Avalina protested.

"Whatever."

A bit frustrated, Avalina leaned back in the saddle, deciding to change the subject.

"Has the gwythaint ever seen a horse before?"

Creeper, after thinking a moment, replied.

"No, I don't think she has. Why?"

"Just asking. She seems very curious."

"Probably wondering what he tastes like."

"Creeper!" Avalina cried, appalled, "Don't say that!"

"Why not? Its probably true!"

"Well, in case it's not, she doesn't need ideas!"

Creeper snorted.

"That won't matter much. She could catch him even if she didn't feel like it."

"Oh, I don't know," Avalina said, rubbing Mitternacht's neck, "My boy's pretty fast."

"Yes, but he's earthbound," Creeper said smugly. "He could never keep up with her."

Avalina smiled softly.

"You're never earthbound when you're on horseback, Creeper," she said. "Never. Horses, they're different in that aspect. . .they can fly without ever leaving the ground. And they can give your soul wings too. When you and your horse are one, its the most beautiful feeling in the world. Its like you're free as a bird."

Coming back to earth, she guessed her face had taken on a dreamy type of expression, and she returned to the subject.

Have you ever ridden one?"

The goblin's answer was curt.

"No, and I have no plans to."

Avalina gave a soft smile.

"You don't know what you're missing."

"I'm not missing anything," Creeper huffed, "The gwythaint is faster than a horse any day."

Avalina just smiled softly and rubbed Mitternacht's neck. Creeper had never ridden a horse before, he couldn't possibly know the exhilarating feeling or understand why she cherished it so. It wasn't just about speed. She had to wonder though, what it was like to be up in the air so high, riding the wind. . .

She was shaken from her thoughts as the goblin kept talking.

"In fact, I'll prove it to you."

"Are you challenging us?" Avalina asked in surprise.

"Yes, human, I am. Unless you're scared to admit the truth."

Avalina gave a soft laugh.

"Creeper, why would you want to? Are you saying you want to race?"

The look on the goblin's face was her answer.

_'He's actually serious!'_ She thought. _'My goodness, he must really be bored around here.'_

"Well. . ."

Avalina looked down at Mitternacht, murmuring something unintelligible, causing him to dance a little in excitement.

Straightening up, she turned back to the goblin.

"Challenge accepted. Whoever makes it to the courtyard first."

"Good," the goblin smirked. "Then GO!"

* * *

The Horned King paced in his chambers, waiting rather impatiently for the goblin and the gwythaint to return.

He had sent them to the first village to scout it out and see if the Pig-Keeper resided there. He had ordered the goblin to simply listen and observe, nothing more. The Horned King had gone to great detail explaining it out to his dimwitted minion. He was to watch and listen for any sign of the boy. He was not to be seen or heard. Especially not the gwythaint. And if, by some chance, he saw the boy, he was *not* to swoop into the village screaming war cries on a screeching gwythaint and pack the boy off to the castle. He was to report back immediately to the Horned King and above all. . .Not. Be. Seen.

The Horned King had told him exactly what would happen if his orders were not carried out to the letter. The goblin had understood perfectly.

The lich bared his fangs in excitement at the prospect of seeing the boy again. The next time. . .he clenched his hands into fists and repressed his wicked glee with a tremendous effort. He would make that Pig-Keeper wish he had never been born.

In his frenzied pacing, he glanced out of the window, before turning back completely as a cloud of rapidly approaching dust blew out over the land, heading for the castle.

He frowned, ordering a spyglass from the Invisibles, noting the gwythaint in the air above the cloud. If someone had followed that goblin. . .he repressed an ugly snarl.

Looking through his tool, the Horned King saw the gwythaint soaring overhead as if it was in pursuit of something. It was flying very fast, and Creeper seemed to be urging it to go faster.

Turning the glass back down to the earth, he saw a black streak disappear behind a hill. The dust continued to rise above the hill like rolling clouds of smoke, signaling the reappearance would be soon.

For a moment, nothing happened.

The black horse seemed simply rise up from the ground, rather than behind the hill, his legs reaching out for the ground in front of him, before curling back up under his body. His mane and tail were waving like banners of war in the red-tinted light above his castle as the dust swirled out over the ground behind them like an army.

It was. . .he tried to remember. . .Mitternacht.

And Avalina was riding him.

They were going at a massive speed. . .for a moment, the Horned King wondered if the gwythaint was trying to attack them, and he shifted his spyglass back up to the sky.

The gwythaint was streaking through the air like a fish through water, obviously not in the attack flight pattern.

The Horned King shifted the glass back down to the earth, where the horse and rider were covering the ground so fast it looked as if they had sprouted wings.

They were flying without ever leaving the ground.

Then the Horned King realized what they were doing, removing the spyglass from his eye as he did so.

_'They're racing.'_

The horse was as black as a moonless night, made even more striking by the dull brown landscape all about him, and the massive cloud of dust that trailed him like an army.

His mane and tail waved like war banners, and the Horned King could fancy he saw a flash of red in the horse's eyes as he seemed to swallow up the ground before him with his massive strides.

He was the perfect image of a war horse, galloping into battle. All he was missing was the armor and a knight. Which, the Horned King remembered, he had indeed possessed at some point.

_'No,'_ he thought to himself, watching as they drew nearer, _'Avalina is his knight now. He needs no other.'_

The drawbridge was coming up fast, and neither party seemed to slacken their pace in the slightest. . .it would be a race to the very finish.

Avalina's brownish hair whipped behind her in the wind as she leaned over the animal's neck, mingling with the horse's flying mane.

He was so engaged in watching Avalina and her horse, he did not notice that everything seemed to be getting lighter.

It came as a total shock when a single beam of sunlight appeared from nowhere out of the reddish-black clouds to rest on the galloping horse and rider. The brilliant ray shone off his glossy black coat like a victory blanket as he thundered toward the drawbridge, outlining the pair of them in gold.

As they thundered over the drawbridge and into the courtyard, the gwythaint above them, Avalina slowly brought her horse to a halt, turning him back towards the drawbridge and looking up to the sky.

The ray of sunlight seemed to have followed them into the courtyard, and as they stood there, more golden spears struck through the moody clouds above the castle to come down to rest on the cobblestones below, covering the place in brilliant light.

The Horned King turned away for a moment, the sunlight blinding him, before shading his eyes and looking all around outside.

_'What is the meaning of this?'_ He thought in confusion and shock. _ 'The sun never shines in my presence. Ever. It never shines here. What is happening?'_

Looking down, he saw Avalina and the horse still there, frozen in the courtyard, as the sunlight covered them.

He saw the girl lean over against the horse's neck in a hugging gesture, but he could not make out her face from this distance.

Raising his spyglass again, he saw the faintest glimpse of her smiling face before she turned her head away to the other side of the horse's neck.

Her eyes were closed, but it looked like she was crying.

* * *

**Generalhyna was the only one to guess which song I used two chapters back, and she was right. Its "April Showers" from Bambi. Congratulations girl! :D**


	77. Chapter 77

Chapter 77

As the days turned into weeks, Avalina was trying not to get her hopes too high for the ground she had cleared, but it was hard. The Invisibles had given her seeds of many different types, and she had planted them all, whispering a prayer for rain as she did so.

The sun came through those thick clouds nearly every day now. Not completely, but enough to feel the warmth and see the beams. That first day, Avalina had sat in the courtyard on Mitternacht, hardly able to believe what she was feeling as its warmth seeped into her. Neither she or Mitternacht had felt the touch of the sun in a very long time, and the joy of it was enough to spring tears to her eyes.

It rained more in those weeks than it had for a long time, and Avalina thanked whoever would listen that her prayer had been answered.

It wasn't the pounding type of thundershower that was more of the normal for Prydain, it was the easy, gentle type of rain that worked itself deep into the earth instead of just running off it. Exactly what that hard, dusty ground needed.

Creeper visited the library more often to talk to her, but Avalina said nothing about it. He would never admit it, but he was just as lonely as she was, with no one to talk to. They spoke of many things, but Avalina bit her tongue and held her curiosity at bay about how he came into the Horned King's service.

"Creeper, are you from another land too, like the gwythaint is?" Avalina asked hesitantly one evening by the fire. It was raining heavily outside, barring her indoors for the rest of the night.

Creeper, rather than stiffening up like she had expected, looked puzzled himself.

"Well, uh. . .I suppose I am," he said slowly. "I remember coming here a long time ago when the Horned King first waged war with Prydain. He conquered other places first."

Avalina shivered faintly.

"I see. Did you have any family? Are there any others like you?"

The goblin now looked even more puzzled.

"I'm not sure, really," he said, looking down at his hands.

"I've served the Master ever since I can remember. I've never seen any more of my kind."

"I'm sorry, Creeper," Avalina said softly. "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

Creeper looked up. "How are they bad?" He asked, cocking his head a little. "I can't remember anything that you asked about, so why would it be a bad thing?"

Avalina decided to ask him the question she'd been wanting to ask him.

"How did you come into service for the Horned King?"

Creeper shuddered, but replied.

"I'm not sure. The first thing I remember was waking up, like I'd been asleep for a very long time, and seeing the Horned King there. I've served him ever since."

"So you've never been free?" Avalina asked in shock. "Never?"

"I was, for a little while," Creeper admitted. "After the Master's first defeat I roamed Prydain's wilderness with the gwythaint until his return. I'd never felt so alive in my life."

"Prydain has that effect on you," Avalina agreed, before hesitantly asking, "How did the Horned King come back?"

"I don't know. I thought he was dead, and then. . .he's not anymore. I don't know how it happened."

Creeper shuddered hard.

"I really shouldn't be talking about these things. Master'd kill me if he found out."

Avalina nodded in understanding as Creeper jumped down from his chair.

"I have things to do."

"Thank you for talking with me," Avalina said softly. "I get lonely too."

Creeper turned back to her, looking irritated at first and with his mouth half open for a sharp reply, but the sincere look on Avalina's face stopped him.

"You're. . .You're welcome," he said in an uncomfortable rush, before hurrying out the door.

Avalina couldn't see the faint grin on his face.

* * *

Avalina trotted Mitternacht out to the plot to see if the rain had done anything. It had been several weeks of hacking up the earth, planting things, and then hoping. And Avalina's hope was beginning to falter. It had been so long. . .if the seeds were going to grow, surely they would have done it by now.

Dismounting, she carefully walked the length of the plot, looking.

_'Its nothing,'_ she thought in disappointment.

_ 'I should have known better to get my hopes up. The Horned King warned me not to. But I was so sure that if I worked hard enough, something would happen. I guess it's true. His lands *are* too full of Death for anything to grow.'_

Disappointed, she began to turn away, just as something caught her eye.

Carefully stepping around where she knew the seeds to be, Avalina brushed away a tiny wet clump of dirt that seemed to be sticking straight up in the air, gasping as her hand came away.

A tiny sprig of brightest green straightened up, now freed from the little clod of dirt that had been holding it down, reaching for the sun with like a tiny green spear.

It looked so fragile, so delicate. . .and yet it had dared to grow. Here, in the lands of Death itself!

Avalina stared in awe, gently touching it with the end of her finger to see if it was really real.

"Great stars," she whispered. "It's alive."

Standing up, she shakily backed away, her voice coming out as little more than a squeak.

"It's alive."

Mitternacht looked over at her, right as her heart realized its joy and she leaped into the air.

"It's alive!" She shouted for all the world to hear.

"It's alive!"

The horse pawed excitedly, dancing, his rider's joy filling him as well.

"Oh, come on Mitternacht!" Avalina cried, leaping to the saddle, "We have to tell him!"

* * *

"Sir, you have to come and see! It's alive!"

"I believe you, but I must decline."

The Horned King's eyes softened slightly at Avalina's crushed expression.

"This is not like the horse," he told her slowly, hoping that she would understand. "Plant life, as you can no doubt see outside the castle, cannot grow anywhere in my presence. Even the lake water around the land turned foul, and the fish have gone."

"But why?" She asked curiously.

The Horned King sighed softly, the noise making Avalina's skin prickle.

"For I am Death, child, and life cannot exist around me. You must try to understand this. If I attempted to approach the little piece of ground you've worked so hard on, it would all be wasted in the blink of an eye. Would you want that?"

Sadly, Avalina shook her head.

"I suppose not. I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to apologize for. It is I that should be apologizing to you for being. . ..unable to enjoy these things."

The Horned King looked down at his terrifying shadow on the floor for a moment, before looking back up to her.

"But. . .its not your fault, is it?" She asked, a confused look on her face. "That you can't go near those things?"

The Horned King closed his eyes for a moment, before heavily turning away, not wishing to speak any more of the subject.

"Yes, child, it is. Now, run along and enjoy your day. I will see you tonight."

Nodding sadly, Avalina slowly backed out of the room, the Invisible shutting the door behind her.

_'Too close,'_ the Horned King thought, fisting his hands into his robe.

_'Too close.'_

He had no desire to tell her anything about how he became the monster he was now, and he had very nearly did so. She had asked just the right questions and he had answered in just the right way to start down a memory lane he did *not* wish to revisit.

He would have to take precautions in the future. A past like his would scar the girl for life, and as curious as she was, he would have to be very careful how he worded things from now on.

She was too young, and too full of Life, to be faced with so much Death.

* * *

Avalina stood, a bit disoriented, on the top of a stone ledge, looking down at the floor, several dozen feet below her. Carefully, she tried to back away from the edge, only to realize that she could not. Her hands were tied above her head in a rather uncomfortable position, so high that she could barely place her feet fully on the stone.

To her left, close enough to touch, she saw a reddish-haired boy standing by her, in the same position. Eilonwy beside him, and an older man Avalina did not recognize at the other end.

She wanted to ask what was going on, but a gasp below drew her attention downward.

A massive hunk of black iron, covered in intricate designing, sat on a stone platform below them. She saw Creeper scurrying away to the side of the room, as a long, menacing shadow rose up the wall, seconds before the Horned King entered the room.

The atmosphere turned from dangerous to horrifying.

Avalina felt her blood freeze in her veins at the sight of him, her heart shivering, as he stared up at them. His features were twisted in a malicious, triumphant sneer as he raised his arm to indicate them.

"My, such a brave and handsome crew," he purred, his voice as sickening as gravel and honey as he placed his hands together in front of his chest in a mocking gesture.

"A pig-boy, a scullery maid, and a broken down minstrel."

Avalina felt her teeth shiver in her mouth as she watched him.

Turning away from them, he continued to speak as he reached for an object covered with a white sheet behind him, projecting his voice a little more to make sure they heard.

"Perhaps it may interest you to see what Fate has in store for you."

This was followed by the darkest, coldest chuckle Avalina had ever heard in her life. It stood her hair on end and froze her to the spot. She could sense his overwhelming triumph, his almost delirious victory in that laugh. A plan he had sought for an eternity to project was finally falling into motion, and nothing could stop him now.

Nothing.

In one swift, graceful movement, he had whipped off the sheet and raised his prize above his head, a decomposing skeleton in armor. Its arms and legs dangled down limply from his grip.

"Now, I call on my army of the dead!" He said imperiously, "The Cauldron-Born!"

Avalina trembled violently as she watched him place the skeleton into the Cauldron, before stepping back and raising his arms to the ceiling.

"Arise, my messengers of Death!" He nearly shouted, his voice echoing off the walls making him that much more terrifying.

"Our time, has, Arrived!"

At this, the floor began to vibrate slightly beneath her feet, and she stared in horror as the mouth of the Black Cauldron began to leak blood.

_'What's happening?'_ She thought in a panic. She tried to ask the boy beside her, but no words would come out.

The Cauldron's taloned foot bit aggressively into the stone, as the Horned King threw his arms up again.

A blinding strike of fiery light spewed from the Cauldron, creating a red, burning mist in the air all around it. A flaming skull could be made out inside the fire, before a buzzing, light blue force surrounded it, pulling it and all the flaming sparks back into the Cauldron with a crack like thunder.

Instantly, a deathly-looking green mist began to seep from the Cauldron, going out over the floor and covering the entire room, which were full of human skeletons that had obviously been soldiers at one time.

Avalina's stomach pressed against her throat and she begged herself not to retch.

Across the room from them, a group of the Horned King's living henchmen were watching the proceedings fearfully. One of the bolder ones used his spear to jab at a bubble of the green mist that had pooled in front of him. The mist hummed threateningly as he did so.

A skeleton reared up so quickly from the mist, Avalina jumped, her eyes as big as saucers.

Her voice froze in her throat, the only noise she was able to make a gasp as two more joined the first and leaped out of the mist in a diving motion, falling on the men that were closest. They were dead before the others even realized what had happened.

The skeletons were *alive!*

"Oh, its horrible!" Eilonwy said softly in horror, watching the scene unfold below her as more and more skeletons began to rise, staring about with empty eye sockets, their skeleton fingers tightening around weapons of old in a rather habitual manner, as if repeating something they had done so many times in the land of the living.

The Horned King watched in wicked glee.

"My beloved warriors have come to life!" He rasped in triumph, watching them as anyone else might watch a celebration, basking in his long-sought victory.

"Long dead from centuries past! *Never* has anyone created an army like *thiss!*"

His pleasure in watching this terrified Avalina far more than the actual moving skeletons themselves.

"Go forth, my deathless warriors!" The Horned King ordered, extending an arm to the entrance.

"Destroy *all* in your path!"

Suddenly, the piece of stone Avalina was standing on crumbled beneath her feet, earning a cry of panic from her.

For one, horrifying moment she hung there, suspended in midair, the rope cutting painfully into her wrists, before it broke, not able to hold her weight any longer.

Avalina screamed as she fell through the air to hit the floor on her back, the other prisoners watching in horror.

"Avalina, look out!" Eilonwy screamed from above her.

Stiffly, Avalina sat up, to see a group of the animated skeletons moving purposefully toward her, weapons raised.

Leaping to her feet, she fled from them in terror.

Her movement only attracted more attention, and soon more Cauldron-Born were following her around the room, reaching for her with their skeleton hands.

She dodged one that grabbed at her face.

A sharp pain in her scalp was followed a ripping noise, and she guessed she had lost some hair, but she did not dare to look back.

Running, dodging, sidestepping, Avalina ran all around the room, trying to dodge them all, but there were too many! She shrieked aloud in pain as one grabbed her shoulder. Twisting, she leaped away, only to find the hand still gripping her. The rest of the skeleton was in pursuit of its missing appendage.

Screaming, Avalina yanked the hand off and awkwardly threw it away, falling over a step. In a panic she leaped up and ran blindly up the stairs. The only thing on her mind was getting away from the Cauldron-Born.

Raising her head, she gasped in horror and barely skidded to a stop in time, just out of the Horned King's reach.

Whipping around, she saw that the Cauldron-Born were coming up the steps behind her like zombies.

Turning back, she had no time to even scream as the Horned King grabbed her by the throat, his eyes alight with a murderous black fire.

"Why don't we have a little demonstration of my beloved army's killing efficiency?" He snarled softly in her face, her eyes wide in horror.

In one smooth movement, he tossed her backwards as if she weighed nothing.

Avalina landed hard on the steps, right into the Cauldron-Born.

She screamed and kicked and fought, but they swarmed her, holding her down.

One held its sword high over its head and struck down at her heart, and Avalina knew no more.

* * *

She was not aware she had been screaming until the silence filled her ears. Nor was she aware that she was sitting bolt upright in bed until she saw the fireplace snapping dimly on the other side of the room.

Shivering so violently the bed shook, Avalina huddled up by the headboard and cried.

* * *

**. . . .So nobody says anything about my astounding creativity in Chapter 75's footer? I'm hurt :'( XD Lol just teasing. Still, reviews would be awesome, yo! XD**


	78. Chapter 78

Chapter 78

Avalina did not know when she had fallen asleep again, only that she ached all over and her eyes were swollen from crying so much the night before.

She had never had a nightmare in her life that terrified her as much as the one she had had last night. Never.

She shuddered all over again, still huddled in her position by the headboard, hardly daring to move, as the sky outside slowly began to get lighter.

Avalina could still feel the Cauldron-Born, gripping her with their cold, bony fingers, holding her down. She could still feel the Horned King's grip on her throat, still feel the icy steel of the sword touch her chest. . .she could even remember the sensation of having her hair ripped out.

It had all been so real. . .so very, very real. And that look in the Horned King's eyes. . .

Shivering, she buried herself in the blankets as well as she could.

_'I want to go home,'_ she thought miserably, a few more tears slipping out of her eyes.

_'What's so wrong with that?'_

For the first time in nearly a month, Avalina was reminded of just who she was a prisoner of.

The Horned King.

That name could freeze the bravest man's heart. The mere sight of him could stop it. He killed without mercy and enjoyed every second of it, as Avalina's nightmare had shown. He truly was a cold, heartless, and thoroughly pitiless monster.

Avalina remembered all too well the burning and killing that had gone on when he waged war against Prydain. A whole city had fallen to him and his men, and although Avalina had never actually seen it, the smoke could be seen for miles on end. The screams of the dying and the wails of the mourning were all that could be heard for a long time afterward. She remembered all too well what had gone on. The terror and despair in the air had been thicker than the smoke.

He was a mass murderer. No, worse than that. He was the wickedest warlord the world had ever came up against. Whole countries had fallen to him, and Prydain may well have fallen along with them, had sheer luck and the Fates not been on the peasant boy's side.

Avalina knew that boy in her dream. She had seen him before, she knew she had, but when and where escaped her. He was so familiar, but her mind was too paralyzed with terror to think straight.

She knew what she had been seeing as well. Eilonwy had described it to her more than enough times. She had been watching the moments when the Horned King had summoned the Cauldron-Born, everyone had been captured and it looked like the Horned King would take over all of Prydain with a deathless army, with nothing to stop him.

Gurgi should have appeared around that time, but she had fallen instead. . .she shook harder at the memory of that sword coming down. . .

The Invisibles tried to coax something down her for breakfast, but she was so nervous it promptly came up again, which lead to them fussing over her for a long time and only leaving her alone when she weakly made it to the stable.

Mitternacht knew something was very wrong, and fussed over her just as much as the Invisibles did. The horse, sensing her need for comfort, stood very still with his head in her lap as she sat in the straw and sobbed like a baby, wishing more than anything she could feel safe again. It didn't matter where.

"Oh, Mitternacht," she cried, "I can't take this! I wish we could run away from here! I wish we were home!"

Hugging Mitternacht close, she drew comfort from her guardian angel, knowing he would protect her from everything he could until his dying breath.

* * *

The Horned King had been waiting for Avalina in the music room when the door opened. He had expected to see the girl and to his faint surprise, it was only the Invisibles.

"Sire," one of them said, its grave tone causing the Horned King to stiffen slightly, "I do not think today is a good day for her to play for you."

The Horned King arched a brow ridge, first in surprise, then irritation.

"And pray tell, how so?" He dredged out.

After a moment, they answered.

"Well, it seems that she has apparently suffered an emotional breakdown of some sort. She woke up last night screaming her head off and we do not think she slept at all. She couldn't eat this morning and she was so weak she could barely make it to the stable. She hasn't come out since."

The Horned King pondered all this for at least a minute, his fingers drumming slowly on the chair arm in deep thought.

"We believe she had a nightmare of some sort, Sire," the Invisibles said.

"Like what?" He questioned.

"We do not know what it contained. We were not in the room when she was dreaming. Her screams drew us to her after it had already happened."

_'What could have brought this on?'_ The Horned King thought privately to himself, barely heeding his servants.

_'I know nothing of these things, but the reaction is rather. . .unusual for a simple nightmare, to say the least. She seemed to be fine last night before we parted ways.'_

On impulse, he rose from his chair.

"Sire, may we inquire where you are going?" One of them asked.

"No."

"I do not think visiting the stable is a good idea, Sire."

"Silence."

* * *

Carefully, the Horned King entered the stable, immediately noticing the silence, and eased the door shut behind him.

Cautiously, he approached the stall the horse resided in, not wishing to frighten the animal or Avalina, were she inside.

As he looked over the door, he met a sight he had never seen before.

The horse was lying down, eyeing him rather nastily through that thick forelock, its ears pinned back against its head.

And there, behind the animal, stretched out in the straw, was Avalina.

Her fingers were knotted into that long black mane, her head resting on the horse's folded front legs, sound asleep. Her body was pressed against the horse's back closely.

The horse fixed the Horned King with a nasty glare, loosing a soft sound almost like a growl through his nose.

The Horned King realized that the horse had not risen when he entered because his rider could be hurt if he moved. The horse's loyalty was astounding. Most horses would have risen at the slightest provocation, but this one hadn't bothered to rise, even with an undead in the stable.

The trust the two of them had in each other was unbelievable, the Horned King mused. Avalina trusted the horse not to hurt her, and the horse had trusted her enough to go near him that day.

The lich did not speak or move, remembering the last time he had spoken in the animal's presence. If the horse moved at all right now the girl could get hurt.

He stared at Avalina for a long time, taking in her face, her exhaustion obvious even as she slept. She looked even worse than the Invisibles had told him she did.

_'Very well,'_ he thought.

_'No music today.'_

Dully, he left, making sure not to frighten the horse.

* * *

Avalina was woken by Mitternacht nuzzling her face, earning a smile from her before she had even opened her eyes.

Sitting up, she stretched as the horse rose himself and shook, throwing hay everywhere.

"Hey!" She yawned, covering her face with her arms, "Do that on your own time!"

Chuckling at his antics, she stood up as he pawed the hay once.

"Do you want to go riding?"

A short rear was her answer.

A roll of parchment sat on top of the stable door. Her insides shaking, Avalina opened it.

After a moment, she heaved a sigh of relief.

"Well boy, there isn't any music today," she told him gratefully. "Which is good because I don't think I could even play a simple one."

Her nightmare surfaced briefly and she shuddered, before reaching for his bridle.

"Let's get some fresh air."

* * *

The Horned King did not realize just how much he looked forward to the hourly session until he found himself missing it.

He realized now that it had been the highlight of his days, and without it he felt. . .different. And not in a pleasant way.

He had watched Avalina ride her horse out a few hours ago, no doubt to exercise the animal and check the little green things she had told him of last night.

He was shaken from his depressing thoughts when he happened to look out the window and see Avalina coming back, feeling his chest twitch suddenly.

Something was wrong.

She was walking.

* * *

"Come on, boy, we're almost there," she panted, pulling his bridle again.

"Come on."

Mitternacht obeyed, despite the pain he was in, and hobbled forward another step.

"Good boy!" She encouraged him, "I can see the stable now!"

The horse groaned and came forward again, the sound breaking Avalina's heart.

"I'm so sorry, boy," she told him sympathetically as he hobbled forward onto the drawbridge.

"Let's just get to the stable and I'll get it out."

_'I hope.'_

It took forever, but at last he was standing in the courtyard, groundtied, while Avalina was bent over, his leg between her knees, digging around inside his hoof.

"I promise, boy, I'll get it out," she panted. "Its just being really stubborn."

_'How can this happen to me?'_ She thought, almost ready to cry again.

_'This just isn't my day.'_

She had been trotting him around in the dust, cooling him down after several hours of brisk exercise, when he had suddenly jerked in pain and she had limped him to a stop.

A stone the size of her entire fist was lodged firmly in between the wall of his hoof and his tender frog, so tightly that she could not get it out with her hands alone.

So she had ended up walking him all the way back to the stable, flinching along with the horse every time he was forced to put his weight on his throbbing foot. The stone held his hoof a good two inches off the ground, further adding to his discomfort.

Now, her back aching with the strain of it, she carefully niggled and worried at the massive rock lodged hard inside his hoof with her hoofpick, praying she would be able to remove it. If she couldn't, Mitternacht would be in a whole lot of trouble.

Panting, she eased his foot down, before carefully raising up.

The world spun for a moment and she held Mitternacht's shoulder for balance, before sitting on the stone bench and wiping her sweaty face with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry," she gasped to him, "But I need a break."

Weakly, she leaned back on the bench, closing her eyes for a moment in the warm sun, wishing she didn't have to be so weak, whether it be physically or emotionally.

After a minute, she started again, prying and prodding, trying to be careful. Mitternacht flinched when she dug a little too hard.

"I'm sorry, Mitternacht," she said, rubbing his side and feeling him nuzzle her back in return.

"Believe me, I'm not trying to hurt you."

Twenty minutes later, Avalina was nearly in tears again. The stupid rock wouldn't budge, and her back was killing her. Mitternacht was a good horse, he wasn't the type to lean on you while you held his leg up, but the weight of his leg alone, her frustration, and the lack of sleep from the night before was taking its toll.

She was trying so hard to be easy, but she was hurting him without meaning to, and like a soldier he stood there and took it, which made her feel worse at her own incompetence.

_'He deserves a rider that can actually help him when he's hurting, not make it worse,'_ she thought, the tears finally coming.

_'I've failed him. I don't deserve to have him.'_

With her blurry vision she couldn't see, and the hoofpick slipped, raking painfully down her hand and earning a soft cry of pain from her.

Carefully setting his foot down again, she watched dully as blood seeped out of the wound.

_'Why? Why me?'_

She was about to truly break down when the horse snorted loudly, the sound popping in the courtyard and making Avalina jump.

Tearfully, she looked up at him, before following his gaze across the courtyard and feeling her blood turn to ice.

The Horned King was slowly approaching them.

Her soft gasp made the lich pause for the briefest of moments, before he continued moving, albeit slower than before if that were possible.

_'That light in his eyes. . .the Cauldron-Born. . .the sword. . .'_

Shivering, she shrank to Mitternacht, who, feeling her fear, laced his ears back at the lich.

Stopping a good twenty feet from them, the Horned King spoke.

"Is something wrong?"

Avalina froze. That was the very last thing she would ever. . .ever. . .expect him to say.

She didn't know why she answered. She was terrified of him. But something in his voice. . .or maybe the way he'd said it. . .made her want to tell him. Tell him what the problem was.

He hadn't ordered or demanded she tell him, but. . .he had asked. Like someone who genuinely wanted to help.

Trembling, she nodded, gesturing at Mitternacht's foot.

"He's got a stone in his hoof and I can't get it out. He's hurting and I'm not strong enough."

Her voice broke as a sob worked its way out, much to her shame. She hated crying in front of people! Especially him.

"May I approach?"

She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to stay as far away from him as possible. But Mitternacht was in pain. . .Shivering, against her better judgement, she nodded and held the horse's bridle to keep him still.

Slowly, he came, the horse staring at him narrowly, as if to say, "One wrong move, and you're going down."

"What are you gonna do?" She asked timidly as he slowly came into range. His aura nearly gagged her but she forced herself to stay still as the horse shifted nervously.

"Try to get it out. Hold him still."

At the sound of his voice, Mitternacht's ears came forward, before he hobbled back a step, unsure of where this was going.

"A-are you sure th-this is a good idea?" Avalina asked nervously.

The Horned King looked over at her.

"Do you have a better one?"

Frightened, Avalina shook her head, turning back to the horse.

"Its ok, boy," Avalina whispered to him, desperately trying to believe it herself.

_'Please, don't let me be lying!'_

"It's ok. Please behave."

Slowly, the lich came up, holding his hand out, palm down, for Mitternacht to sniff, before he cautiously placed it on the animal's neck.

Mitternacht shivered like a hummingbird's wings as his eyes showed the white around the edges, but he obeyed Avalina and kept still.

Slowly, the Horned King ran his hand down the horse's front leg, only to have the animal yank away and shy around to the other side of the girl.

"Steady, Mitternacht!" Avalina told him soothingly, forgetting that her back was now to the lich.

"Its alright."

_'The sword. . .'_

She shivered faintly.

_'I hope.'_

Carefully, the lich approached again, going through the same motions, before sliding his hand down the horse's leg.

Amazingly, the horse yielded to his silent command this time and allowed the Horned King to lift his foot.

With his back to her, Avalina couldn't see what he was doing, but he was working. . .she bit her tongue to keep from telling him to be careful. He probably would not appreciate it.

A sharp crack made she and the horse both jump, before the Horned King released the horse's leg and stepped away, pieces of the stone crumbling between his fingers.

"You'll have to get the rest," he dredged out as he slowly stepped out of range, his aura leaving the air around Avalina enough where she could breathe easier. She coughed as the fresh air entered her lungs and the horse snorted hard, as if to get rid of it as well.

Avalina stared, wide-eyed, at the pieces of stone that fell to the courtyard, then at Mitternacht's foot, which was now standing firmly on the ground, before looking back up at him.

"You. . .you broke it?" She whispered, half in fright, the other in awe as she looked down at his hand.

The Horned King raised his hand, glancing at it, before looking back up at her.

"Yes."

"You're. . .rather strong," she said softly, her surprise showing in the syllables.

The Horned King gave a short nod.

"Yes."

Turning, he began to walk back toward the castle.

Remembering her manners, Avalina called after him.

"Thank you!"

Realizing how sincerely grateful she was, she repeated it, hoping he would understand how much the act had meant to her.

"Thank you so much."

The Horned King stopped, turning his head slightly to look over his shoulder at her, enough where she could barely make out his cheekbone.

Turning away, he stood there a moment, before he replied.

"You are. . .welcome."

And then he was gone.

* * *

**To everyone that reviews, they're awesome! LOL**


	79. Chapter 79

Chapter 79

He had watched her out of a window for several minutes, limping the creature into the courtyard, then working over the horse, most notably the animal's left front foot, watching her rest once before picking it back up.

He headed down. He hadn't seen her all day, but something was definitely wrong, and he was curious as to what it might be.

The horse had snorted loudly, alerting her to his presence as he crossed the courtyard.

She had gasped when she saw him, giving him such a frightened look he stopped in his tracks for a moment.

He could feel her terror in the air all around him as she shrank closer to her horse.

He narrowed his eyes at this unexpected turn.

Avalina had not been this afraid of him since before the wolf attack. He had noticed her fear dwindling slowly, yesterday had been the most recent indication of it. What had brought this fresh onslaught of terror on?

Stopping far enough away from them so that the horse would not bolt, he had asked her what was wrong as softly as his monotone voice would permit. Such fear couldn't simply be whipped up. Something had to have happened to make her like this, but what? He had not done anything in many weeks to frighten her outright, had he?

For a moment, he thought she would not answer him, before she choked out her reply and gestured to the horse's foot, a sob wringing itself from her.

That was not what he had meant when he asked, but it would do.

The Horned King looked down, a brow ridge going up faintly.

*That* was a rock. He could see it from here. How in the world the horse had managed to pick up such a big one was something he felt should go in a history book. It was obvious Avalina had fought with it for some time and had failed to remove it, judging by her exhaustion and tear-stained face.

The Horned King studied her for a moment. For some reason, the idea of her crying made him vaguely wish she wouldn't. She had been nothing but smiles only yesterday, and all he felt now was terror and despair coming from her.

This was odd, but not half as odd as the strange feeling in his chest that made him want to ease it, somehow. He didn't know what it was, but he wished she wouldn't cry.

Carefully, he had approached, feeling Avalina's aura wash over him as he did so, and after a few minutes, the horse had nervously allowed him to pick up his foot.

The Horned King had tried to ease it loose, but it was no good. It was jammed in tighter than the stones in the castle walls.

He could yank it out, of course, but it would no doubt injure the horse even further.

Studying it, he realized he would have no choice but to crush it before it could be removed.

Holding the horse's ankle firmly in his left hand, he had wrapped the fingers of his right around the stone as completely as he could, and began to squeeze. His fingers were slim enough that he managed to get one under the stone, but it was a very tight fit and the horse flinched painfully at the action.

The Horned King knew very well what he was capable of. He easily possessed the strength of ten men, if not more, and this was something that he had retained, even as his body had physically began to deteriorate. He had crushed things before that only a mace could rival.

He steadily continued to apply more force on the rock, squeezing so hard his skin paled slightly from the pressure. After a moment, he felt it giving. . .

The sharp crack had startled everyone but him as the stone finally yielded and crumbled in his grip. Easing the horse's foot down, he slowly stepped out of range, freeing Avalina and the horse from his deathly aura, making sure not to leave as quickly as last time.

The girl choked and coughed for a moment before regaining her composure, staring at him in frightened awe.

_'You broke it?'_

She didn't know what to make of that. He had answered carefully, before turning to leave.

And despite her obvious terror of him, she had thanked him. Thanked him twice, to be exact. And he had heard the sincerity, felt the truth in every syllable.

He had turned back briefly, just enough to see a faint smile on her face.

_'You are welcome.'_

He had never uttered that phrase in his entire existence. Not that he could remember, at least, and it felt strange coming off his tongue.

So strange. . .but oddly. . .enjoyable.

As he returned to the castle, one saw the almost pleasant expression on his face.

* * *

Avalina had cleaned the rest of the rock fragments out of Mitternacht's hoof before easing him carefully inside the stable.

He was walking a whole lot better now that he wasn't stepping on a fist-sized stone with every step he took, but he was still in a fair amount of pain and after rummaging through the tackroom shelves, she had found enough small iron pieces to suit her need.

There was no ice anywhere at this time of year, so Avalina instead placed the cold steel against the horse's tender sole, which was starting to bruise rather badly.

The metal warmed to the horse's foot temperature quickly, so she was constantly switching them out for a fresh, cold one.

Avalina did this for as long as her aching body could stand, before she finally had to stop.

Filling a sock with a mixture of ground corncob and a few small drops of honey to hold it together, she packed Mitternacht's foot and bound it up. She had never had to treat a stone bruise before, but she had read a little on equine medicine and Mueric had told her a few things.

Mitternacht was moving about in his stall much better after being treated, attacking the feed hungrily.

"Well boy," Avalina laughed, "I'm glad it hasn't messed with your appetite any."

As she brushed him down, she thought about the events the day, talking out loud. Mitternacht enjoyed hearing her talk, and even if he couldn't understand the exact words she said, he could sense the meaning and intentions behind the sounds.

"Mitternacht, I'll be honest, today has not been one of my better ones," she told him as she swept the brush over his muscled back.

"Horrible, horrible night, horrible morning, then you get hurt, on top of the fact that I'm a prisoner of an undead evil skeleton-like overlord with apparent mood swings, a fiendish goblin that may or may not be entirely right in the head living in the castle with me, which is inhabited by creatures that can't even be seen at all, which on second thought may actually be a good thing. . .stranded miles from any other living thing but you, including my family and friends. . .its not like I'm stressed out or anything."

She moved a step over to brush over his haunches and muscular hindquarters.

"He terrifies me, Mitternacht, more than anything or anyone I've ever heard, seen or even read about. Every last inch of him screams wicked, evil, horrid things, and I am thoroughly convinced he is nothing but just that. A heartless, soulless monster, right to the very core. He's killed so many thousands of people, burned so many countries to the ground, not leaving anything living behind, looking for the Black Cauldron. His army destroyed everything they came across, mirroring their leader's monstrous, merciless nature. Prydain was next on his list, and he was only moments from conquering it as well, had that boy and his group not stopped him right in the nick of time."

She trembled suddenly at the thought of all of Prydain infiltrated with Cauldron-Born, killing everything and everyone without even a pause, being the soulless creatures they were, while the Horned King looked on.

"Hey," she said to herself.

"That was the same boy in my dream last night. But what was his name? Oh, that frustrates me so much!"

She knew his name, she knew she did, but it dangled right out of her mind's reach, flitting away when she tried to focus on it.

Grudgingly, she let it go, determining that she would remember it later when she wasn't even thinking about it.

Her thoughts returned to the Horned King.

"At least, I *was* thoroughly convinced. He's all of that, and more, and yet. . ."

An exasperated sigh escaped her.

"I'm so confused, Mitternacht," Avalina told him as she began to brush out his tail.

"And I really shouldn't be. For land's sakes, he's a monster! The division between good and evil here should be painfully obvious. But. . .that day. . .he put himself in danger to save me from the wolves."

A new shudder went through her at that horrible memory.

"I was a literal inch from death. That's how far away that wolf's teeth were from my throat when the Horned King appeared out of nowhere and threw it away like a child would a rag doll. He pulled that log off me. . .and he fought for me. He didn't let them touch me, not once."

Avalina went around to his other side, making sure she had not missed any tangles in the horse's thick tail.

"And he likes music very much, from what I can gather. He said he liked everything I played. And he meant it too. I could tell."

She blushed faintly at the memory.

"And you tolerate him," she said to the horse, beginning to work on his other shoulder and side.

"And that's something anyone would be honored by, in my opinion. You choose your circle more carefully than most people."

The horse twitched an ear as if to agree with her.

"And he's told me so much about so many different things. Dragons, gwythaints, other supposedly mythical creatures. . .and a whole bunch of other topics. And then he asked me questions about horses. We've had so many good conversations the past few weeks, and during them, I forgot to be afraid. And he gave me the library, and permission to work around on his land. . .he introduced me to the gwythaint, gave me a tour of the castle. And he asked me what certain feelings meant. That was. . .odd. Can he not feel?"

Avalina furrowed her brow in puzzlement.

"I wonder. . .I'm not sure whether he can or not. Everytime I'm around him, his presence is always terrifying. But sometimes, under that, that immovable wall of stony composure he hides his emotions behind . . .I can sense the deepest loneliness coming from him I've ever sensed coming from anyone in my life, and the heaviest, darkest type of despair. It is so heavy, and the very worst type. I do not know how he stands it. And such a dragging, aching weariness. He is so weary. But these sensations, they don't feel. . .quite right. They feel more like a twisted version of the real thing. Its frightening, but I can't help but pity him when I sense them. At least a little. And. . .a part of me wishes I could make him happy. Somehow."

Starting on Mitternacht's mane, she kept puzzling to herself.

"He obviously must care about me, at least a little. Why else would he save my life? Or give me the library? Or let me roam about the castle and his lands at will, instead of keeping me confined to the dungeon all the time? And he clearly didn't want to ruin my relationship with you," she told Mitternacht, "And he refused to come see the little things that's growing on his land because he knew he would kill them if he got close."

Carefully, she worked around to Mitternacht's forelock, removing his halter so she could brush his face. The horse closed his eyes contentedly.

"And he helped us, today. I don't know what I would have done if he hadn't came out."

Avalina's brow furrowed again as she gently brushed her horse's face.

"Maybe he's not quite the monster everyone thinks he is anymore. Perhaps he's more than just a bloodthirsty, soulless creature. My past couple of months and last several weeks here are certainly hinting at that. His presence isn't as numbing to me as it was when I first arrived. But I could simply be getting used to it, although I don't see how."

Sighing, she absently scratched behind her horse's ears, knowing how much he enjoyed it.

"Great Orion, there's people that would murder me outright for thinking such things, but I can't help it. Ever since the wolf attack he's been. . .different, somehow. I can't explain it, but I know he has. A part of me wants to believe that so badly, that he isn't a completely heartless animal like everyone says, but another part of me says that its no use because he's sank so low there can be no turning back."

The memory of the Cauldron-Born plunging the blade into her chest made her stiffen in terror, before relaxing as Mitternacht lifted his head to nuzzle her face.

"That dream was an event that has already happened," she told her horse, trying to suppress her fear.

"It's in the past, and nothing can change that. But I will see what the Horned King does in the future, and base my opinion of him off of that. It could be possible he is not what everyone else seems to think he is. What do you think of that, Mitternacht?"

The horse blew softly in her hair.

"I'm guessing you approve. Ok then. I'm going to base my opinion off how he treats me and what *I* think, not what everyone else thinks and believes. We'll see how things go from here."

* * *

**Thank you to all my reviewers! Your reviews are treated with all the reverence of gold in my inbox! LOL**


	80. Chapter 80

Chapter 80

As Avalina had fearfully predicted, Mitternacht's stone bruise was rather bad, rendering him unridable for a few days.

Mitternacht was as disappointed as she.

Over the next few days, when the Horned King did nothing that could be considered different or aggressive behavior towards her, Avalina's fresh fear of him began to cautiously wane. He acted the same towards her as he had for several weeks, and Avalina's new internal struggle brought on by her terrible nightmare slowly began to dim as the Horned King did nothing out of the ordinary. (At least, out of the ordinary with his usual behavior)

One day after the music session, Avalina was standing in the courtyard, watching Creeper ride the gwythaint. Up and down, back and forth through the air, the dragonic creature moved as gracefully as any bird, able to do maneuvers at a speed that was surprising for an animal of that size.

She was so entranced, watching, that she did not notice the Horned King behind her until he spoke.

"Enjoying the display?"

Avalina nearly jumped out of her skin.

"Y-yes sir, very much," she stammered, looking nervously back at him.

He came up to stand beside her in the courtyard, watching the gwythaint, Avalina turning back to watch as well.

"She's beautiful," she murmured, watching his face.

The Horned King's breath rattled in his throat, staring upward.

"Showoff."

It took a moment for her to realize he was speaking of the goblin.

"Have you ever flown before?" She asked him.

A pause.

"No."

"I think it would be amazing. It looks like it."

"Perhaps."

"How does Creeper do it so well?"

"He's had years of practice."

"Oh."

After a pause, Avalina asked, "Is it hard?"

"I don't know."

Avalina and the Horned King stood together for several minutes, watching the graceful acrobatics of the gwythaint as it arced through the air, its wings pumping in smooth, powerful strokes.

"It looks like it would be fun," she said softly to herself, unaware she had voiced her thought out loud. Too busy watching the scene above her, she didn't notice the Horned King glance over at her.

"Hm."

After a minute more, he raised his arm and beckoned slowly. The gwythaint immediately turned in his direction, losing altitude, and landed gracefully in the courtyard.

Creeper, shivering in fright, stammered out, "Y-y-es, Master?"

"Get off."

The Horned King's voice was like stone, making Avalina stiffen in fright. Terrified, the goblin dismounted the gwythaint and slowly came over to the lich, dreading what he might do, the gwythaint following him over.

Avalina held out her hand in greeting, and the gwythaint happily allowed herself to be petted, ruffling her wings slightly as she did so.

"Hello, beautiful," Avalina told the creature happily as she ran her hands over the gwythaint's slender neck, "We really must think of a name for you soon."

The gwythaint's yellow-green eyes burned as it sniffed the girl over, those massive wings coming out again proudly, sitting in a folded upright position, almost like dog ears.

The Horned King scrutinized the pair for a moment, thinking, before he gestured to Avalina, the movement catching her eye.

"Get on."

"What?" Avalina asked, startled, staring at him with huge eyes.

"You heard me."

"But. . .B-but. . .I can't ride a gwythaint!" She sputtered in shock.

"I don't know how!"

"You've ridden horses."

"Sir, I've ridden *a* horse!" Avalina corrected him. "I've never ridden any animal other than Mitternacht and the ox at home. That's it. I don't have any experience with anything else."

The lich regarded her in faint surprise, a brow ridge lifted slightly.

"Then for someone with such a limited experience, you still ride better than most people I've seen," he finally told her, gesturing to the gwythaint again.

"Now get on."

Avalina uncomfortably looked up at the gwythaint's back, then uneasily back at him.

"I don't want to fall. . ."

"If she taught Creeper to ride, then she can surely handle you. You already know a little, which is more than he did."

Avalina glanced at Creeper, seeing his slightly crushed expression, then back at the Horned King as he finished speaking.

"Now get on. She won't let you fall."

Shaking slightly, Avalina went around to the left side of the animal, her back to the lich. She noticed hollowed out corncobs had been stuck on the spikes on the gwythaint's withers, to prevent the rider from getting impaled.

Trembling, she placed her left hand firmly around the rear spike, the other resting on the gwythaint's back. The animal, when standing more or less upright on its legs as it was now, was as thick as a well-built pony through the girth and about 14 and a half hands high at the withers, a dwarf compared to Mitternacht's 17.1 hands.

Curious, the gwythaint watched her, its wings still out slightly.

Taking a deep breath, Avalina bent her knees slightly, before throwing her right leg over and pulling the rest of herself on, all in one smooth motion.

The gwythaint shifted a little, not used to carrying anything heavier than the goblin, and eyed her, but there was no aggression in its gaze.

"Please don't throw me," she whispered softly, causing the gwythaint to turn its head right around on its long, serpentine neck and regard the girl.

"Hang on," the Horned King instructed her as he raised his arm, "Tight."

Avalina barely had time to grip the spikes with both hands before the gwythaint spread out its wings and thrust itself off the ground.

Avalina couldn't help but shriek as the animal under her leaped into the air and pumped its wings hard, beating a tattoo in the air as it rose steadily higher, throwing its head up and down for extra momentum.

Gripping her legs tightly to the gwythaint's sides, she squeezed her eyes shut and held for all she was worth as the gwythaint continued to rise.

_'Oh, Fates, don't let me fall!'_ She prayed.

_'I don't want to die today!'_

The gwythaint leveled out then, spreading its wings to its fullest as it rode a warm updraft, coasting on the wind.

Avalina dared to open her eyes a tiny crack, before they popped open in frightened awe.

She was flying.

Looking up, all she saw was black and red, sliced through with scattered sunbeams. It was all around her. The threatening clouds looked even moodier up close, but somehow they didn't look quite so ugly.

And for the first time since Mitternacht had gotten injured, Avalina felt. . .free.

And then she looked down.

The land was so far below them the castle looked small. The trees looked like broccoli tops from up here, almost like they did at her secret place back at home.

The only clear space below them was the Horned King's grounds, the forest came up like a green flood and hid everything else from view on every side except the lake, which spread out toward the north as far as the eye could see, save for the treeline hidden away on the other side. The area around the Horned King's castle was darker and foul-looking, but as the gwythaint coasted out, she could see the rest, beyond the Horned King's reach, filling up the horizon, sparkling in the sunlight like a sea of bluest diamonds.

They were so high in the air Avalina felt herself grow dizzy, and she clung to the gwythaint tighter in fright, praying desperately she wouldn't fall off.

The gwythaint banked slowly to the left, its neck stretched out, scanning the scenery below them like a hawk.

They took a wide circle across the blue part of the lake, and then out over the green forest, the fresh, clean air hitting Avalina's lungs like cold water on a hot day. Oh, how she had missed this. . .

Tightening her grip, she leaned slightly over to the right to see better, the gwythaint going along with her.

With a start, Avalina realized she'd been unconsciously steering the gwythaint the way she wanted to go. And the gwythaint had obeyed her!

In wonder Avalina leaned slightly to the left. The gwythaint coasted left. It was almost like riding Mitternacht!

Gripping the gwythaint firmly, she slid her legs forward slightly onto its slim shoulders. The gwythaint gracefully began to lose altitude, sinking down steadily.

Avalina let the animal coast over the treetops, enough where she could reach out and touch them if she wanted.

The gwythaint gave an odd clicking noise, turning its head sideways to look at her with one eye.

_'It wants to play,'_ Avalina realized.

The Horned King must have trusted the gwythaint quite a lot in order to let Avalina ride at all, and he had obviously been impressed with her skill as a rider.

Avalina loved riding. More than anything else. More than reading, more than music, more than anything. And she loved to gallop. And the rider side of her, if she acknowledged it, was aching to know if this gwythaint had another gear.

The rider liked to go fast.

Taking a slow, deep breath, she gripped the gwythaint's spikes tightly and closed her eyes for a moment, steadying herself.

She was about to do something most people would consider insane. But so had she all those years ago, when Mitternacht had first taught her how to fly.

_'Alright then.'_

Quickly she slid her legs forward, aiming the gwythaint at a hole in the forest roof, where a tree had fallen a little while back, leaving a blank space.

The gwythaint loosed a sound that sounded like a cackle of triumph, rising a little in the air, before folding its wings and snaking down.

They narrowed their eyes as the gwythaint plunged through the opening, opening its wings the instant they were clear.

The deep shadow of the forest allowed hardly any sunlight inside, but there was enough to see by.

The gwythaint folded and opened its wings in flawless timing, sliding in between the trees like a wraith of the air, leaning itself this way and that, Avalina going along with the movement, concentrating on steering.

One wrong move would have consequences. The trees were so thick down here. . .they would have to be extremely careful.

Dipping, rising, ducking, dodging. . .

They burst out into a small meadow, sending birds flying everywhere, and Avalina slid her legs back, asking the gwythaint to rise.

The gwythaint shot straight up like an arrow in flight, its massive wings pumping hard to gain altitude.

Higher, higher. . .Avalina gripping the gwythaint tightly, leaning forward over its neck as much as she could to aid the creature.

Higher, higher. . .it was so effortless. . .Avalina concentrated on the menacing clouds above their heads, narrowing her eyes at them in defiance.

"You don't scare me."

The gwythaint snorted hard and gave a sharp, short cry of excitement, fueled by its rider's adrenaline.

It liked to go fast too.

Reaching the cloud wall, the gwythaint did not stop, instead shooting straight through.

All Avalina could see around her were swirling mists of red and black, all around her.

She couldn't see.

A little apprehensive, she leaned closer to the gwythaint, right before they burst through the mist and into the full sunlight.

Avalina closed her eyes as it hit her body, the heat traveling through her skin to meet the blazing fire inside her heart.

The two fires met, and for a moment, all was still. There was no tomorrow. No yesterday. No boundary between earth and sky.

For this one moment, *this* moment, was all that mattered. Only this.

Avalina's joy had been building throughout the entire flight, but now she couldn't hold it in any more.

She burst out laughing in joy, that fire filling her up, the sound all but lost behind them as they swept through the air. Tears of overwhelming happiness stung her eyes, her hair whipping behind her.

Coasting out above the mist, Avalina could not make out anything below her, but judging by the contented, relaxed way the gwythaint was flying, she did.

And she also felt a little tired.

Avalina reluctantly decided it was time she went back to the ground. She didn't know how long the gwythaint had been worked before she came out to watch, and it was best to be careful.

Leaning forward so the animal could hear her, Avalina whispered excitedly, "Let's make it a finale to be proud of."

The gwythaint gave a proud screech and readied itself, before going up slightly.

Folding its wings as tightly to its body as it could, folding tightly over Avalina's legs in the process to help hold her on, they plunged straight down.

They broke out of the mist like a strike of lightning, leaving a dark cloud trail behind them that followed for a little ways before dissipating.

Avalina's stomach rose to her throat from the speed, and she thanked the stars it was empty.

They headed straight for the courtyard, Avalina loosing a yell of triumph as the fire filled her chest to bursting.

"Whooo-hoooo!"

She felt the gwythaint try to slim itself down even more to accelerate.

The courtyard was finally beginning to look less like a small grey circle and more like a cobblestone structure as they ripped through the air, faster than Avalina had ever gone in her entire life.

Her hair was snapping madly behind her, and the wind whistled in her ears.

Her eyes blurred with tears as the air stung them harshly, but she narrowed them and forced herself to keep them open.

She was going to remember this. Every last second of it. The pain didn't matter in the slightest.

The courtyard was coming up at a phenomenal speed.

Avalina had quit steering a long time ago. The gwythaint knew its body better than she did, and it would know when to stop.

Breathing was all but impossible as the wind hit her, her chest resisting with every breath.

_'A little longer,'_ she thought, drawing another breath.

They were coming down at the speed of a flying arrow.

She felt the gwythaint stiffen underneath her, and she heeded the warning, gripping the spikes even tighter and hugging the gwythaint with her legs for all she was worth.

Three hundred yards. . .two hundred. . .fifty. . .

_'Almost there. . .'_

Over the screaming wind, Avalina wondered briefly if she heard the Horned King roar something.

At the last possible second before they did a vertical nosedive into the courtyard, the gwythaint whipped out its wings and flared them wide, the sound making a crack in the wind like a tree ripping right in half.

With hardly a foot to spare, they coasted out over the courtyard, the gwythaint gracefully rising to avoid Mitternacht's stable and doing a small circle above the courtyard, before gracefully floating down to light in front of the castle steps, faintly stretching its wings before folding them neatly to its sides.

Gasping for breath, Avalina sat there dazedly for several long moments, before looking over at her audience.

The Horned King and Creeper were staring at her like she had sprouted horns of her own.

They both wore the exact same dumbstruck expression. . .their brow ridges nearly disappearing into the folds of their hoods, mouths hanging open as they stood there, their arms and shoulders completely slack.

Avalina couldn't help it. She cackled out loud at their expression and was not one bit afraid or sorry for it.

Unable to speak from lack of air and helpless laughter, Avalina slowly slid off the gwythaint's back.

Her legs crumpled underneath her, unable to hold up her weight, dropping her to the courtyard, and she realized she was so weak she could hardly sit up. Her entire body shook uncontrollably as she alternated between laughing to her heart's content and gasping for breath, the gwythaint sniffing her over, seeming rather pleased with itself.

Leaning back against the gwythaint's hind leg, too weak from her adrenaline rush to even sit up by herself now, Avalina laughed like there was no tomorrow, remembering the ride and all its exhilarating freedom. . .before cracking up all over again at the slack-jawed expressions on her audience's faces.

Barely able to breathe at all, all she could do was point as she laughed and laughed and laughed.

Words would have to wait.

* * *

**Ok, just to clear up any questions anyone might have that isn't as horse crazy as me XD. A hand is how people measure horses. There are four inches in a hand. So, the gwythaint, at 14.2 hands, would be four feet ten inches tall at the withers. Mitternacht, at 17.1 hands, would be five feet nine inches at the withers. And the height limit for Friesians is 17 hands even, but this is my story, a work of fiction, so nobody should get too worked up that Mitternacht is an inch taller than Friesians are normally allowed to be in real life. This story has dragons and a lich in it for crying out loud XD lol!**

**I really hope ya'll are enjoying reading this, because I am having an absolute blast writing this. :D**


	81. Chapter 81

Chapter 81

The Horned King could hear the longing in her voice, although she hadn't meant to voice it.

She wanted to fly.

He did not understand it himself, but he had often longed to fly as well. If he allowed himself, he could wonder what it was like quite frequently.

After watching them a moment, he had made up his mind.

The gwythaint clearly wouldn't hurt her, and she had demonstrated the excellent ability to stick to an animal's back, even when they were pitching and fighting.

He would let her ride.

It took a moment for her to relax, but he had seen her sit up, looking all around in wonder, and he felt that pleasant feeling burn inside him again.

He watched as they went out over the lake, making a grand loop before going over the forest, raising and lowering.

Using the spyglass, the Horned King was able to see Avalina actually steering the gwythaint, despite not having anyone tell her how.

_'It may be like riding a horse, if my memory is correct,'_ he mused. _'She's riding it the same way she rides Mitternacht.'_

The pair of them went up, down, side to side, and then, with no warning, disappeared into the trees.

Literally, disappeared.

The Horned King searched hard through his glass, his eyes narrowing.

Had they crashed? That seemed unlikely, the gwythaint put up with Creeper, but still. . .

Another thought came to mind.

_'Is she trying to escape again?'_

He snarled softly at this and felt his eyes threaten to change. If she was. . .his free hand fisted into his robe, making his servant flinch.

_'As much as she cares for that horse, surely she wouldn't leave him.'_

Suddenly they reappeared, looking so small, shooting straight up like an arrow.

The Horned King saw this and stiffened. Going straight up like that, she was going to come off for sure. . .

He had no time to think about it as they disappeared into the moody clouds that covered his lands around the castle, cutting a hole open in them to let the sunlight strike down.

He waited, and waited, and waited, his free hand slowly clenching and unclenching, watching the skies.

Nothing, nothing and nothing. It was as if the sky had swallowed them.

"Master, are they gone?" Creeper asked timidly when a minute or so had passed.

The Horned King ignored him and scanned the skies fiercely, bracing himself for the worst. Avalina had made good her escape, or she was just riding above the mist, where no one could see.

Silently he willed them to appear, his hands clenched tightly.

They shot out of the thick clouds like a lightning strike, a thick beam of sunlight lighting their way down through the sky where they had blown a hole in the reddish-black mist.

The gwythaint had its wings folded tightly against its body, Avalina leaning over its neck, gripping its spikes, her legs snugged tightly under the creatures wings.

A yell of triumph echoed back to him on the wind as they kept on coming.

The Horned King lowered his spyglass, watching them, not unpleasantly.

They were coming down at an unbelievable speed.

He frowned slightly. They probably should start slowing soon. . .he waited for the gwythaint or Avalina to pull themselves up, but they did not.

Staring hard, he realized Avalina was gripping the gwythaint for all she was worth, not trying to steer at all.

Was she too frightened to?

They were going to crash right into the courtyard. . .an image of a broken body lying limply on the stones flashed unbidden before his eyes, and he roared at the gwythaint for all he was worth.

"PULL UP!"

The gwythaint was already doing so of its own accord before the first syllable was out of his mouth.

A sharp crack as the gwythaint snapped its wings out, pulling swiftly out of its dive, swinging back gracefully into the air, doing another low circle around the courtyard before landing at the base of the castle steps.

The Horned King could only stare at the pair of them, unmoving in his shock and anger. Was that girl *trying* to get herself killed?

Creeper had never ridden like that. Ever. The Horned King had never seen a gwythaint reach that speed with a rider on its back before.

And Avalina had laughed.

Weakly, she had slid off the gwythaint's back, crumpling to the ground as her legs gave out on her.

Now he could see that she was shaking uncontrollably as the sudden rush left her system, leaving her body drained of energy.

Sitting on the ground, leaning against the gwythaint, she laughed and laughed like she would never stop.

The Horned King had not heard someone laugh in so long he had nearly forgotten what it sounded like when it wasn't filled with malice.

And it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Like a silver wind chime in a crystal breeze, it tinkled and rippled against his ears so truthfully. . .it was also one of the sincerest sounds he had ever heard. And one of the most infectious.

Laughing so hard she could scarcely breathe, she had pointed a shaking finger at him, unable to get any air to speak, the other hand holding her stomach.

Her aura was so joyous she was nearly delirious with it. He didn't think he had ever felt this much joy come from someone in his entire existence.

Then he realized he was standing there with his jaw proverbially on the ground, gaping at her like he had lost his mind.

Snapping it shut, (Which earned another bout of laughter from the girl) he wondered if *she* had been the one to lose her mind, rather, the way she was laughing.

He felt his cheek muscles twitch faintly as he listened to her. It had been so long since he had laughed himself. . .in fact, he couldn't ever remember doing so.

The Horned King realized she was deliriously happy, her aura full of it, and he found his fingers slowly working in the air, as if he could feel her joy.

It was all around him.

And he realized that he would rather it didn't stop.

He didn't know how long he stood there, waiting, but eventually, to his faint disappointment, her laughter finally tinkled into silence, leaving her gasping for breath as she used the gwythaint to help her slowly stand up, leaning on the animal for balance.

"That was. . .amazing!" Avalina gasped, staring at him with wide eyes, her hair a windblown mess. "Did you see? I was flying! I was. . ."

Avalina hugged the gwythaint, who had turned around, looking for attention.

As she did so, the Horned King was reminded of the crash they had nearly had, and then he was angry. His chances were already needle-thin, the only sliver of hope he would ever have from saving himself from his fate rested with her alone.

"Were you *trying* to get yourself killed?" He growled, staring at her hard.

Surprised by his sudden change in attitude, Avalina turned around, before shrinking from his angry gaze.

"N-no!" She stammered, her fear flaring up like twigs on a fire.

"I was j-just riding."

"What were you thinking?" He snarled, his eyes beginning to flicker, "You could have *died!*"

"She wouldn't h-h-hurt me!" Avalina shook, backing against the gwythaint fearfully.

"You t-told me she wouldn't let me fall!"

As he stared at her, his glare like stone, she tried the last bit of an excuse she had.

"Sh-she knew what she was doing!"

The Horned King stared darkly at the shaking girl for some time, noticing how quickly her aura had changed from overflowing happiness to drawn fear.

The knowledge that he had brought this on irritated him, especially when he grudgingly remembered that for a moment, he had actually enjoyed seeing her happy.

She had just gone on a ride that would normally have anyone else begging for mercy, and she had laughed over it. Before he had spoken to her, he had felt no fear at all.

Finally, he dredged out, "Weren't you frightened at all?"

"I w-was a little, at the b-beginning, but not anym-more."

After staring hard at her for several more moments, he finally turned away to walk inside.

"Be careful," he snarled harshly. "The Invisibles do not need to be scraping you off the courtyard when there are much more productive things they can be doing."

And then the door shut.

Avalina felt tears build in her eyes as the door slammed. She hadn't meant to make him angry! She had only been having fun, and she had thought he had enjoyed it too.

Her vision blurring, she watched Creeper hop awkwardly over to them and beckon the gwythaint away to its stable.

Reluctantly, the creature followed, leaving Avalina standing alone.

Before they had gone too far, Creeper turned around to see her watching him.

Seeing her like this was painfully awkward for the goblin to watch.

"Don't take it too personal, human," he rasped uncomfortably, shifting his feet, "He's like this all the time. You'll get used to it."

Hurriedly, he took the gwythaint inside the stable and closed the door, leaving Avalina by herself in the courtyard with tears running down her face.

She knew the goblin had meant well, but his words were not very comforting.

Numbly, she turned and headed to the one place she knew she would find comfort and companionship.

Mitternacht.

* * *

"He had to open his fat mouth."

"The big dummy."

The Invisibles flitted about, setting the table for supper. They had seen the whole thing, and they were heavily irritated over it.

"They were doing so well."

"And then he had to ruin it."

"And Avalina was actually having fun for once," the fourth said. "Did you feel her aura? I don't think I've ever sensed someone that happy in a long, long time."

"She was loving every second," the second Invisible agreed. "I mean, she was *loving* it like we love pranks and sugar."

"And just when she was starting to get over her nightmare, he had to just. . gah, he makes me so frustrated!" The third grumbled.

"He makes us *all* frustrated," the first Invisible answered as it laid the silverware.

"I'd be less frustrated if we could smash a teapot over his head like I did to Creeper," the third one said hopefully.

"Smashing is good," the second agreed.

"No, smashing is bad," the first Invisible said irritably, "And you'd better remember that, because from now on, everything you two break, *you two* will be replacing it, I don't care how difficult it is to conjure."

"I'd really like to know what she dreamed about," the fourth one said, wisely changing the subject before the others could say anything. "It must have been awful to frighten her so badly that the fear carries out over several days."

"I think it contained the Horned King," the first Invisible said. "And definitely not in a good way."

". . .You don't say," the second Invisible said sarcastically, "I never would have guessed."

"Maybe if we knew what it was, we could help somehow," the third Invisible said cheerfully. "I hate seeing Avalina like that."

"We'll be ready next time, if it is what we think it might be," the fourth Invisible said in a resolved voice. "We have to get our suspicions either confirmed or put at ease about it."

"Even if we did know, we would have to watch what we say very carefully. I'm not certain we should tell the master anything about it."

"I wasn't thinking about him, I was thinking about Avalina," the third answered the second. "Maybe we could make her feel better about it. Although I do agree with you on Buddy-Boy, definitely no snitching to him about this."

"We aren't supposed to be seen or heard by anyone except Creeper and the Master," the first Invisible said tartly, setting the plates.

The others all snickered.

"Talk about a day late and a dollar short on that statement," the third cackled.

"Yeah, its a bit too late for that, Dusty-Rainbow," the second snickered, "Because I distinctly remember something that happened only last week. . ."

"I *Forbid* you to mention that *Ever* again," the first said venomously.

"Ok!" The second chirped cheerfully, immediately as the third started in.

"IIII'M A YANKEE DOODLE DANNNNDY!"

Whooping, the second started clapping to the beat, dodging a fork.

"I SAID SHUT UP!" The first Invisible fumed.

"A YANNNKEE DOODLE DO OR DIIIE!"

"YOU NEVER TOLD THEM TO BE QUIET!" The second Invisible yelled cheerfully above the racket, "JUST ME!"

"A REAL LIVE NEPHEW OF MY UNCLE SAM

BORN ON THE FOURTH OF JULYYYYYY!"

The Horned King appeared at the door for a fraction of a second, before turning and leaving.

"Don't let Buddy-Boy get away!" The second cried to the other, who was still belting out verses. "He wants an encore!"

The song-and-clapping duo chased the unfortunate lich down the hall, yelling for all they were worth as he hurried away.

"YANKEE DOODLE CAME TO TOWN

JUST TO RIDE THE PONIES. . ."

The yelling faded away, leaving the other two setting the table in silence.

"You reckon you ought to stop them?" The fourth questioned.

"They are infuriating, but currently I'm as irritated at the master as they are. For once, I say, let him have it. Besides," the first Invisible said as it neatly set the napkins, "Better him than me to be on the receiving end of their insanity."

The fourth grinned, softly humming.

"I'm a Yankee Doodle sweetheeaaart. . . ."

"Shut up."

* * *

**As of today, I've estimated I have, at most, 15 readers, and at least, I have 9. Its a record! *Parties***


	82. Chapter 82

Chapter 82

The Horned King wished he had not been so harsh on the girl. Her fear had flared up more quickly than he thought was necessary, which had faintly surprised him, especially considering he had not tried to approach her in his anger. She had known what she was doing, the gwythaint had known what it was doing, he should have known nothing would happen. After all, he had told her to ride, not just to sit there while the gwythaint flew in a straight line.

It was the day after the gwythaint incident, and Avalina had ridden her again today. The Horned King had told her this morning she could ride the gwythaint as often as she wished, perhaps in an attempt to smooth over his harsh words the day before.

He could feel her tension all through the music this time, and it left him wondering what in the world the matter was. He had never gotten his answer about what had seemed to make her afraid of him all over again a week ago. Well, more afraid than she had been lately, that is. Whatever it was, she certainly wasn't going to say by herself, so he realized he would have to ask.

"What is troubling you?" He questioned, watching her.

Avalina looked a bit startled, so to speed things up he elaborated.

"You have not been yourself these past days."

Avalina looked down, wondering how to go about this. She couldn't very well tell him, "Nothing," because it was definitely a "Something." He hated being lied to, and he would know if she tried, but the idea of talking about it made her extremely uncomfortable.

But maybe he would know something about it.

"Do. . .you ever have. . .nightmares?" She asked softly, watching him warily.

The Horned King furrowed a brow slightly, before it sank in.

So that was what this was about. The nightmare the Invisibles had told him she had had a week back. It was still bothering her? He would never understand how mortals could be so frightened by things that weren't even there.

Slowly, he shook his head, wishing he had a better answer for her.

"No."

"Oh," Avalina whispered disappointedly, before looking up again curiously.

"Do you have good dreams, then?"

"No."

"Why?" Avalina asked, puzzled. "Do you dream at all?"

"No."

Seeing her confused face, the Horned King elaborated.

"I do not dream because I do not sleep," he explained.

Avalina's eyes widened.

"You don't sleep? At all?"

Clearly she was having trouble wrapping her mind around this.

"No."

"Don't you want to?"

After a pause, he continued.

"It isn't that I do not, rather, so much as I can not."

"You can't sleep?"

Avalina asked incredulously, the Horned King answering with a shake of his head.

"No."

"But why?"

The Horned King gave a soft sigh, before heavily answering.

"Because, child, there is no rest for the wicked."

"Oh."

Avalina replied, crestfallen, before saying softly, "I'm sorry."

"Do not waste your sympathy on me, child," the Horned King dredged out slowly.

"There are others far more deserving of it than I. I do not deserve rest, and I will receive none. For I am a monster beyond compare."

Avalina could think of nothing to say in return, and the Horned King decided to shift the conversation away from himself.

"How is your horse?"

"Not good," Avalina said softly, "I think he has an abscess in there where the stone was. I may have to remove it, but I'm afraid I'll hurt him."

"You can't possibly give him more pain than what he is in now," the Horned King answered, referring to the daily walks Avalina took the horse on outside the stable. "Have you done this before?"

"No. I haven't even seen someone do it. I've just read about it."

The Horned King frowned to himself. This would pose a problem.

"How much information did the book give you?"

"Too much. First it says one thing and then it says another and I don't know which one to listen to."

"Then pick the option you would do, and do it."

"But what if I pick the wrong one?" She asked uncertainly, tears beginning to build. "The last thing I want is to hurt Mitternacht. And if my hand slips with that knife. . ."

The Horned King frowned, interrupting her.

"You will not pick the wrong one. Whichever one you choose, it will automatically become your correct choice. Do not let doubt cloud your mind and hinder you from making decisions. You will get nowhere if you allow doubt and second-guessing to take over."

The Horned King continued as Avalina watched him uncertainly.

"You must trust yourself, regardless of what anyone or anything else thinks or says."

"I'll try not to doubt," Avalina finally whispered, looking down.

The Horned King narrowed his eyes, seeing she was not convinced.

"You seem to have a way with animals, child. Horses in particular. I am not blind," he told her as she looked up at him in surprise, "And you should not be either. Embrace your ability and use it. You will understand as you go."

Avalina looked down for a moment, before gazing back at him.

"'I'll. . .I'll try to do as you say."

The Horned King gave a short nod, pleased.

"Good."

* * *

An hour later Avalina was standing in the stable hall, Mitternacht tied to a post, a thick book spread out on a table on his left side.

"Ok, boy, let's try this," Avalina said, releasing a breath.

Lifting up the horse's left front foot, she rested it on a bale of hay she had previously turned sideways, so she would not have to stay doubled over all the time.

After cleaning out the hoof, she consulted the book.

"It says to use hoof testers to find the exact location of the abscess. Hey, I knew that already, Mueric told me!"

Avalina groaned.

_'Idiot.'_

Using them, she carefully pressed around the hoof until Mitternacht flinched sharply.

"Sorry boy," she said apologetically as she shaved off a tiny bit of hoof on the wall, leaving a paler strip to mark her place. "But I found it, at least."

Consulting the book again, she read out loud.

"It says to look for a black mark or line indicating where to cut. Cut in a circular motion. Yeah, sure, find a black mark on a black hoof," she said sarcastically to herself. "No problem!"

Picking up his hoof again and propping it on the hay bale, she spied a paler line in the dark hoof, right above her own mark. Maybe in dark hooves the colors were reversed.

"Aha!"

Carefully, she began to pare away where the pale mark indicated, which was not easy because Mitternacht had hooves like tested steel.

Press down and twist. Blow away the shaving. Twist again.

Avalina might as well have been trying to carve out something in a stone wall with a stick.

As the minutes ticked by, her back began to ache with the strain of it, and her hands hurt. she could feel herself rubbing blisters on the insides of her fingers, particularly her thumb.

Mitternacht stood as patiently as a statue, his head down, his ears flicked back to listen to her.

Avalina made hardly any headway, but she did not stop. The mark seemed to be getting smaller, and she fought down her rising panic by encouraging herself with the fact that that could only be good. The book hadn't said anything, but it seemed logical to follow the mark to its source.

That is, until it disappeared completely.

"What?!"

Avalina grabbed the lantern and held it close, straining her eyes to see where it was.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The mark was completely gone. There was nothing to even show for her effort except a large space on Mitternacht's hoof that had been carved away, leaving a grotesque looking dip.

"This can't be happening."

Fighting down her panic, she consulted the book again.

"Nothing. It doesn't say anything. Great."

Shaking with fatigue, she wiped her forehead with the back of her wrist, trying to keep from panicking.

"I can't believe this."

Weakly, she let Mitternacht's foot gently to the floor and sat on the bale to rest her aching legs and back, trying to think of what to do next.

"Well, this is a fine mess," she gasped to Mitternacht, who turned around to nuzzle her.

"Your foot looks absolutely terrible and I accomplished nothing."

Her head in her hands, she stared unseeing at the floor, wondering what to do next. His hoof looked horrible with a fair bit of it missing, creating a paler groove in the glossy black wall.

_'What,'_ she thought to herself as she fixed her gaze on a paler spot on the floor by Mitternacht's damaged hoof, _'have I done?'_

The horse shifted slightly, showing another paler mark on the floor nearby.

"What is that?" She asked out loud, leaning over to examine it.

It was sickly yellow in color and seemed to be rather thick.

"That looks like infection."

Looking back as his hoof, she picked it up and examined it.

Right where she had been paring away, a faint yellowish liquid emanated slowly from the hole in the horse's hoof.

"The abscess!" She gasped, reaching for the knife.

Pressing against the deepest point, she twisted as hard as she could.

A faint pop could be heard as a fairly thick part of Mitternacht's hoof was carved off, right before a spurt of yellow gunk flooded out of the hole to run down the side of the hoof.

Mitternacht gave such a deep groan of relief it would have sounded like a growl to anyone else, but Avalina knew her horse.

"I did it, boy!" She gasped in triumph. "I did it!"

The horse sighed as the infection continued to ooze rapidly out of his hoof, his ears going back in a relaxed posture, feeling the poison finally leaving his system.

Avalina could see his relief in every muscle.

After consulting the book some more and stretching her exhausted spine, she went through the shelves in the tackroom and found a can of thick black drawing salve.

Placing it on the top of Mitternacht's door, she cleaned away the hoof shavings that littered the floor and put her tools away.

After several minutes of brushing him, the flow of infection was trickling nearly to a stop, and that was her cue.

Picking up his hoof again, she generously smeared the black, shiny goop deep into and around the groove, coating it, before wrapping and bandaging the horse's foot. The salve would help to pull out any more infection that still remained inside, while the bandage would prevent the salve from rubbing off on the horse's bedding.

"There!" She said as she stood back to survey her work, wiping her hands on an old rag.

"I think that should do it for tonight. But until you heal, boy, you're gonna have to have that done three times a day. No exceptions, you hear?"

The horse flicked an ear back in slight irritation.

"Don't give me that look. You're feeling better, aren't you?"

A huff was her answer.

As she walked him to his stall, she noticed he was walking twice as easily as he had been the past few days, and she felt glorious, knowing that she had been able to ease his pain. The Horned King had been right. She shouldn't be so blind to her abilities.

As Mitternacht ate, she went around and checked his thigh where a wolf had either clawed or bitten him in the attack, grinning when she saw he had healed back without even a scar to show for it.

Going back around, she kissed his face when he turned around to look at her.

"Goodnight, handsome. See you tomorrow."

* * *

**Boy, this chapter was interesting to write XD. I've seen hoof abscesses removed before and it is *not* a fun thing to watch. And those pictures on Google Images will stay with me for a while. 0_0 (Shudders)**

**Anyhow, I hope ya'll enjoyed it! XD**


	83. Chapter 83

Chapter 83

The Horned King realized after Avalina had left the room that he had repeated the exact same advice to her as his old master had once told him, centuries ago.

Everything he had told her was how he had became such a powerful warlord. And ironically such a monstrous being too, but there was no need to tell her that.

He had never second-guessed himself when conquering countries as a rule, because he knew the choice he chose would be the right one every time. He never doubted his decisions, and relied solely on himself for advice, neither trusting nor listening to anyone else. Not even the tiny voice in the back of his mind that whispered that everything he was doing and had done was so wrong. And in time, like everyone else, the little voice had been silenced, slaughtered by his larger hunger for power and bloodlust, preferring them far more than this pitiful thing humans called morality.

The Horned King knew no such thing. It got in the way of his plans and goals.

At the meal that night, Avalina told him what had happened, looking exhausted, but triumphant. He nodded in approval, pleased that she had broken through her doubt and succeeded in what she had finally summoned her self-confidence to do. She had grown in herself today, and the knowledge that he was responsible for it in a way was rather enjoyable.

Most of the tension that had built recently between them was gone, he noticed. Her fear was still there, although not as strong as it had been the last few days. She was almost back to the way she had been before that silly nightmare.

"Sire?" Avalina asked hesitantly, breaking him from his train of thought. Ordinarily being interrupted from thinking irritated him, but this time he was not.

He turned his attention back to her in a signal to go on.

Avalina paused for a moment, before asking somewhat hesitantly, "You sit with me every night, but why don't you eat? Aren't you hungry?"

This question had been a long time coming. In truth, the Horned King had expected it much sooner, but the recited answer he had dimly gone over in his head about telling her to mind her own business was gone, and he couldn't remember it.

"I cannot feel hunger like you do," he said, trying to figure out how to explain this and at the same time faintly wondering why he even bothered. "Although I require sustainment, there is no pleasure in consuming it. I only do it because I have to, and it is something that is not pleasant to observe."

Avalina looked confused, before saying suddenly, "You mean you can't taste?"

The Horned King gave a short nod, taking in her horrified expression.

"No need to look so stricken," he told her calmly. "It is normal for me."

"But. . .but that's awful!" Avalina said. "How is that even possible?"

"By human terms, it isn't," he told her carefully.

At this, she looked even more confused, but asked no more of the subject.

"It must be horrible," she finally said, "To see it right in front of you, and not be able to enjoy it."

"It does not bother me," he ground out, "It no longer holds appeal."

"Doesn't the smell get to you?" She asked, her eyes questioning.

"My ability to distinguish those things is gone as well, child."

"You can't smell either?"

The Horned King shook his head.

"No."

He didn't think he had ever seen someone look so shocked in his entire existence.

Avalina could find no words, or even thoughts, to acknowledge how horrible this was to her.

She could not imagine life without being able to taste and smell different things. She just couldn't. Without taste and smell. . .

"What kind of life can you have without those things?" She nearly whispered, watching him.

The Horned King looked down at the table.

"I do not have one," he finally said, so softly Avalina had to lean forward slightly to hear him, "There are many things required to truly live that I do not possess, and without them, I do not suppose I can truly be considered, "Alive." I am merely in a state of existence. Nothing more."

A faint sniffle brought his eyes back up from the table to focus on Avalina on the other end.

He saw a tear slip down her face, the firelight reflecting off it in a crystal way.

She was crying.

"Is something wrong?" He asked her.

"Have I offended you?"

"No," she said softly, shaking her head.

"I just feel sad. For you."

The Horned King felt his brow ridges go up in shock at this statement.

Never, in a thousand years, had he ever expected something like this to be said in his presence. Much less *to* him. This was. . .disturbing.

"Child, do not feel pity for me," he dredged out, "I am the last creature on this planet worthy of such an emotion."

"How can I not feel sad?" She asked him tearfully, "How can I not? It isn't right, you not being able to feel those things."

"I brought it on myself," he told her, wondering how they had gotten on such a conversation and wishing they had not.

"There is no need to cry. Why would you wish to shed tears for something as monstrous as me?"

"I don't know," she told him, "I can't help it. Don't you get sad thinking about it?"

"No," he told her, "I cannot feel such things."

"You. . .can't feel?"

"I'm not certain," he told her carefully, "I do not think so. If I can, they are merely twisted shadows of the actual emotions themselves. They are not the real thing."

"Why? How can you tell?"

"Because you need a heart to feel those things," he explained to her carefully, "And as you should know by now, I have no such item. And I do not require one to function."

Avalina looked like he had taken everything she knew and stood it on its head, completely overwhelmed by what he had just told her.

"Do not try to dwell on it, child," he told her, hating himself for making her look like that in the first place.

"It will only confuse you more."

Avalina looked like she wanted to ask questions, but couldn't find words to voice them.

After struggling with herself for some time, she finally managed to put a sentence together.

"So the rumors are true? Everything they said was true?"

The Horned King frowned.

"Everything that who said?"

"Prydain's armies," she answered, shivering slightly.

"They said you were heartless."

The Horned King suddenly felt as if a small stone was embedded in his chest. This was something he had not expected to come up.

"They were right. You should have known that already. Something with a heart could not possibly do all of the things I have done."

Avalina was silent for a long moment, fighting to keep her sobs down, and the Horned King stayed quiet, not wishing to sadden her anymore. There was nothing he could say to comfort her anyhow.

"Do you miss your heart?"

The Horned King stared at her in surprise as she continued.

"Do you ever wish you had it back?"

The Horned King sat back in his chair as he wondered how to answer this.

Avalina could ask the simplest questions in the strangest forms, it was almost unsettling.

"No," he finally told her. "It has been gone so long there is no retrieving it."

Deciding that he was only depressing her, he rose to leave.

"Is there a way for you to unload your. . .bad feelings?" Avalina asked him, a look on her face that begged him to say something positive.

He gave a soft sigh, knowing that he could not.

"No, child, there is not," he told her heavily.

"Because the undead cannot cry."

The candles on the table flickered as he began to leave.

"I wish there was something I could do!" Avalina called to him, her tears spilling over.

He stared back at her impassively as she cried, "I wish I could help you feel again."

Thinking of nothing to say, he simply lowered his head, before slowly leaving.

* * *

Avalina cried in her room for a long time afterward.

She could not believe it was even possible to be like that.

He could eat and drink but he couldn't taste. He could not smell. He could not cry. He could not sleep.

_'__What kind of life is that?'_ Avalina sobbed to herself.

_'It's not a life at all. He said it was just a state of existence. But what kind of existence is that?'_

He was neither dead nor alive, but a twisted mixture of the two and it was horrifying.

Now she knew why, in the rare instances his stone wall was lowered slightly, she could feel so much weight behind it. He was so weary and empty. . .

_'He has nothing,'_ she realized. _'Absolutely nothing. All there is inside him is a black, hopeless void where his heart should be. I wish I could fill it, somehow. How does he exist at all?'_

"I wish I could help you," she sobbed out loud, "I wish I knew what to do to make you happy. But I don't know how."

Staring out of the window into the pitch, silent night, she wept.

"I don't know."

* * *

In his chambers, the Horned King reluctantly went through the motions of eating. He detested the activity, but there was nothing else that could be done. Despite the fact that he was no longer quite alive, he needed some form of sustainment, and food was the only way in this area of the world to get it.

He couldn't get Avalina's broken face out of his mind. And he hated himself for giving it to her in the first place. He had told himself only a few days ago that he would scar her with himself if he allowed it, and he was trying to hope that he had not. He had been a fool to answer her questions. She was far too young to handle this.

And she had wished she could help him. She had said so herself. Why would anyone want to *help* him? It didn't make sense. All anyone ever wanted was for him to die. And that had happened not long ago.

He stopped for a moment, sensing something different.

His mouth felt funny.

He took a drink of the wine the Invisibles had given him, wondering what the problem was. the inside felt. . .prickly, like a numb area when the blood rushes back to it.

Shaking his head, he tried to clear it, but the wine only made it worse. Now his nasal passages felt strange.

What had those Invisibles given him this time? He fumed.

They were the most infuriating. . .no, he told himself, holding back his fury. To get angry would only be what they wanted. Keep calm.

With an effort he tried, but the prickling sensation in his mouth had gotten so bad he could no longer form words.

It worsened to the point he felt that he had inhaled fire. It burned the inside of his very skull.

Snarling, he sat in his throne as it got worse and worse, fighting the urge to claw at his mouth, a garbled roar finally escaping him before the flaming sensation began to slowly die down.

The door opened.

"You bellowed, Buddy-Boy?" They asked in an entirely too cheerful manner.

"What . ..did you do?" He snarled, gesturing to the food on the tray in front of him.

"We didn't do anything!" They exclaimed in protest.

"In fact, that's the only thing we've given you we *haven't* done something to in some way or another. Although now that you mention it, maybe we should have. . ."

"You did something!" He snarled, "And I demand to know what."

"We may be the most annoying things you've ever met, but we are not liars," the voices said, rather angrily.

The Horned King could not see them, but he could tell they spoke the truth.

Sitting back in his throne, he narrowed his eyes in thought, thinking silently to himself.

_'Then if they did nothing, what was that?'_

"Sire," one of them said suddenly, "Take a drink."

The wine glass was pushed in his direction.

The Horned King glared at them.

"You think I would fall for that?"

"Just do it!" One of them said cheerfully, "We have to know!"

"Know what, pray tell," he bit out.

"We can't say yet! Just do it!"

"I give the orders around here," he snarled, "Not you!"

"Oh for heaven's sake, just do it! We're not giving you orders, Horatio. Sheesh."

Irritably, he picked up the glass, feeling their excitement build.

"If you are lying. . ." He began.

"WE'RE NOT! PROMISE!"

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he lifted the glass to his mouth, pausing a moment before tipping some inside.

The sensation that followed was something he had never felt before. It was. . .something he had no name for. But it felt. . .unreal.

"What is that?" He ordered them, staring at the air in front of him.

"Isn't it obvious, Hat-Rack?" They said happily, "You're tasting again!"

* * *

**Leave a review if you want, I promise it will be treasured! LOL**


	84. Chapter 84

Chapter 84

Avalina happily cantered Mitternacht through the forest, heading for the ridge. The sun had not begun to rise yet, and she wanted to watch it from the ledge. It was always so beautiful.

As the ledge pointed west, she could not see the sunrise straight on, since the forest behind her was in the way, but she could see the aftermath.

Dismounting, she watched the sunrise in all its blazing glory, the sky slowly turning from dark blue to all shades of pink and red as the ball of fire in the sky steadily began to creep over the horizon, peeking through the trees.

Gazing out over the landscape, she couldn't help but worry. The Horned King had returned not long ago, and he had already been to Prydain once and warred against it for some time, before mysteriously disappearing.

And now he was back, and everyone was afraid. She was too. They all remembered the horrors his armies had rained upon the countrymen the first time. So many had died. . .

Something faint against the horizon caught Avalina's eye, and she strained against the dim lighting, trying to see. It had a pale, greenish color, and it seemed to be spreading.

Puzzled, she fished her spyglass out of her saddlebag and trained it on the spreading mass, wondering what it was. To the naked eye it looked like mist.

Narrowing her eye against the rising sun's glare at the corner of the glass, she could see the mist slipping through the cracks in the treetops so far away, before finally coming out over a bald hill, where she could see clearly.

It wasn't mist at all.

An army of skeletons, clad in armor, dragged across the landscape, carrying all manner of weapons. Their bones, mainly their chest cavities, glowed that deathly green.

They looked like Death.

Avalina gasped, dropping the spyglass.

_'The Cauldron-Born!'_

Leaping to the saddle, she galloped Mitternacht for home as fast as he could run.

_'He's finally done it!'_ She thought in a panic.

_'He's finally gotten the Black Cauldron!'_

Avalina had no idea how he had amassed so many skeletons, but one thing was for sure.

He would be taking no prisoners.

She had to warn Prydain. She had to get her family out of harm's way.

The forest whisked by as she galloped home.

_'Run, run run!'_

Crashing out of the treeline, Mitternacht galloped right up to the farmhouse, Avalina leaping from the saddle before he'd even stopped.

"Momma!" She screamed, crashing into the house.

"We have to go Now!"

Dragging her mother outside, she told her in a rush, "The Horned King's finally done it, Momma! The Cauldron-Born are on their way here! We have to go!"

Her mother turned white.

"I'll pack some things. Fetch your brother, he's in the field waiting on you."

Galloping to the pasture, she saw her brother's irritated face.

"I've been waiting for you for half an hour," he grumbled, but as Avalina told him the news he paled.

Leaping up behind her, they headed back to the farmhouse, but suddenly, Mitternacht braked hard to a halt, throwing her brother off.

The horse leaped and shied as Avalina reached out a hand to help Arran back on.

"Mitternacht, steady!" Avalina cried, before looking up suddenly as the horse stilled for a moment.

Walking skeletons came lumbering out of the trees, heading straight for them.

Avalina's heart jumped in horror.

"Arran, hurry!" Avalina said, reaching out to him, "Get on!"

Arran shook his head, picking up a shovel that was leaning against a tree.

"No, Avalina. Go. Mitternacht can't outrun them with two passengers. Get Mother and get out of here."

"Arran, no!" Avalina cried in horror, realizing what he meant. "Get on, quick!"

"I'm sorry, sister."

With that, he threw a sharp stone at Mitternacht. It bit hard into his rump, earning a scream from him as he leapt forward in terror.

"Avalina, Run!"

"Arran, no!"

Finally pulling her fighting horse to a stop several dozen yards away, she turned back just in time to see her brother disappear beneath a swarm of skeletons. She heard the crunch. . .

"ARRAN!"

Avalina screamed in horror.

"NO!"

Skeletons turned in her direction, fingering their weapons hungrily.

Avalina turned her horse and ran, a crimson puddle spreading over the forest floor where her brother had disappeared.

Smoke filled the air as Avalina raced to the clearing. She had to get her mother. . .

Breaking through the treeline, she reined Mitternacht to a stop, her eyes widening in horror.

The farmhouse was on fire. So was the barn. Her mother lay in a pool of red by the farmhouse door, the Cauldron-Born stepping back as they finished the job.

Avalina could only stand there, completely frozen.

The Cauldron-Born turned on her.

Mitternacht shied away and galloped to the east as fast he could go, hammering down the forest trail.

Tears blurred Avalina's vision as she sobbed aloud, gripping her horse's mane tight.

Her family, gone. Just like that. And now they were after her.

She fancied she heard the skeletons clanking behind her, but she was crying too hard to look back.

Racing, racing. . .

Mitternacht skidded to a stop, rearing as he did so. Avalina was not prepared and was flung off mightily as he shied wildly to the right, screaming in terror.

She flew through the air and landed hard on her back on the ground, the impact driving the air from her lungs.

Stunned, she lay there for a moment, before slowly sitting up with a groan, looking dazedly around the clearing.

Avalina gasped in horror.

The Horned King stood in the clearing, not twenty feet from her.

And he was coming closer.

Her heart threatening to close off her airway, Avalina struggled to get up, but her legs wouldn't work right. . .she resorted to crawling backwards across the clearing, unable to take her eyes off the monster in front of her that was rapidly closing the distance between them.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to run. She wanted to be anywhere but here. She wanted Mitternacht.

Her back hit a tree as his aura swept into her lungs on her next breath, choking her.

Gagging, she pushed fruitlessly against the ground with her boots, trying to back up farther, but it was no good.

The Horned King reached toward her, his eyes alight with a black fire so terrible no words could describe it.

She saw Death in those eyes.

He grabbed her by the throat and pulled her to her feet, Avalina fighting to break his grip as he tightened it.

"So, this is the maiden that would have given me so much trouble," he purred sickeningly, staring right in her eyes, freezing her to the core.

"We can't have you running off to warn all of Prydain, now can we? It would ruin my grand victory, and conquests are so much more interesting if you do not know they are even coming. Don't you agree?"

Avalina choked in his grip, unable to move a single muscle, paralyzed by his glare as his aura began to suffocate her completely, drawn deeper into her lungs with every little gasping breath she managed.

She had heard it said many times that the eyes were the window to the soul. If that was true, then this creature, this monster in front of her, possessed one as cold and invisible as Death. It was then she realized exactly why everyone was so terrified of him. Why his name was only ever mentioned in whispers, even then so quietly it could barely be heard.

He possessed no heart. That meant he could do anything without a single drop of remorse or the tiniest second thought to hinder him.

An equine death scream echoed out of the trees to filter into the clearing.

Avalina would have screamed herself if she had been able, knowing what had happened.

_'They got Mitternacht!'_

The tears came harder, making seeing all but impossible.

She shook uncontrollably as the Horned King lightly ran his clawed fingers over her forehead, smoothing away her messy hair from her face.

"Perhaps you would like to see what happens when the Cauldron needs another body," he purred, running his claws slowly through her hair.

Avalina shuddered violently at the action. Black spots danced in front of her eyes as her lack of air began to take its toll. The Horned King's hold on her was the only thing preventing her from falling to the forest floor.

She tried to plead with him, beg him to stop, beg him for. . .something, but she couldn't even breathe. . .

He chuckled darkly, tightening his grip, the sound vibrating through her very soul. It was a sound of purest, blackest evil, and she heard his nearly delirious victory in it, lacing every tiny syllable.

"Ohhh, yess. Revenge. Is. *MINE.*"

His eyes flared blood red right as Avalina felt herself sink into blackness, the smell of Death the last thing she was aware of.

* * *

Avalina screamed and screamed, finally shaking herself awake with the noise.

Sitting violently up in bed, she realized she was choking and gasping on her own breath, tears pouring down her face.

The bed was shaking as badly as she was, and even after coming to, she kept screaming until she realized she was in her room and not trapped in her dreamworld any longer.

Feeling her throat tighten horribly, she leaped out of bed and barely made it to a bucket in the washroom in time as her stomach heaved violently.

She stayed on her hands and knees on the cold stone floor for what seemed like centuries, feeling ice cold one second and burning alive the next.

She continued to cry as her stomach kept heaving, even after there was nothing else for it to empty.

She sensed an Invisible in the room, before a cool washcloth was carefully placed on the back of her neck. She could almost hear it whisper something in sympathy.

When her stomach finally quit heaving and her sobbing reduced to hiccuping gasps, she felt them help her to her feet.

A bath was drawn in record timing, the Invisibles helping her out of her sweatsoaked nightgown. At any other time she would have been terribly embarrassed, but she was in so much pain at the moment she didn't care.

The warm water reduced her shivering, but did not stop it. The pain, however, was mostly washed away with the water.

When they helped her back into the clean sheets (That had been changed) she lay there shivering violently for hours, staring at the wall, not daring to sleep again.

A fresh wave of sobbing softly wrung itself from her as she huddled into the fetal position under the blankets, wishing with all her heart she could be somewhere she knew she was safe.

* * *

The Horned King had been walking aimlessly through the halls, not going anywhere in particular, simply walking, when he realized he was at Avalina's door, a moment before the most terrified screaming he had ever heard came through the wood and rang painfully against his eardrums.

Instantly, he snatched at the doorknob to go in, but an Invisible held him back.

"No, Sire!" It hissed, "You can't go in there!"

He yanked his arm away, but refrained from opening the door with bared fangs.

He heard her retching and gritted his fangs together tighter, hearing her choking sobs as well. The waves of terror coming from the other side of the door nearly pushed him backwards.

This continued for some time.

"What happened?" He snarled, his eyes flickering dangerously.

"Another nightmare, Sire."

"Another one?"

He bit back a growl. These mortals were pathetic! They couldn't even handle something as simple as a little scare.

"Not just any dream, Sire," the Invisible answered.

"One of us stayed to observe, and we're afraid it had no natural causes."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Sire, Avalina seems to be receiving dreams from. . .a dark source. Namely. . .it seems that the Cauldron is doing it."

The Horned King's eyes widened.

"What?"

"Or at least, Arawn is. That's as close as we can determine."

The Horned King shuddered slightly at the mention of his old master, before clenching his fists in anger.

"How is this possible?" He snarled.

"We don't know. Possibly because her aura is so strong, it makes it easy for him to get where she can sense him, and he works into her dreams."

"Why is he doing this?" The lich hissed.

"We do not know. There may be many reasons. One we can guess at is that he is determined to take you back to the Cauldron by keeping Avalina afraid of you."

The Horned King's eyes flashed solid red, listening to her sobs behind the wood.

"He did this to her?"

"It seems that way."

The Horned King's voice was like stone.

"Can you prevent them?"

"Now that we know where they are coming from, I think so."

"You," the Horned King dredged out furiously, "Had better keep your word."

* * *

**I have the one hour loop of Requiem For A Dream on Youtube to blame for this terrifying chapter. Music inspires you, man. XD I freaked myself out when I went back to proofread the thing. I wish I was joking. 0_0 I'm so awesome, sometimes I scare myself XD.**


	85. Chapter 85

Chapter 85

The Horned King paced inside his chambers in a blinding rage he had not felt in months.

_'How dare he?'_ He fumed, his eyes blazing blood red as he swept back and forth across the room, the torch flickering every time.

_'How. Dare. He.'_

His fear of the Cauldron had been turned to fury for the moment.

The wretched thing haunting him was to be expected. He had sought for it for many years, only to have it turn on him and destroy him instead of the country he longed to turn it against.

He expected it to haunt him, to sit there at the very edges of his consciousness, waiting for its chance to strike him in a weak moment, (Which it did, always) but going after Avalina. . .he snarled out loud, sounding like a feral animal.

That was inexcusable.

She was so young, so fragile. . .she did not deserve the Cauldron's horrors tugging at her mind as well.

Two attacks had already happened, that he was aware of.

_'I was a fool to let my guard down,'_ he thought furiously.

_'How could I let this happen? I knew my master for centuries, I know how his mind works. I should have anticipated this. That he would strike not only at me, but at any hope I may posses to free myself from the Cauldron as well. I should have taken precautions already. How could I have done this to her? She is too young to be faced with so much Death. And now, after this last episode, she may very well be scarred for life.'_

He faintly shivered himself as a whisper from the Cauldron tugged at him.

_'The Invisibles have detected him now, and if their powers are as strong as they claim, they should be able to keep him from her. They are many, he is only one.'_

He glared hard at the floor without seeing it.

_'Not that that's ever hindered him before.'_

The lich resumed his pacing, the Cauldron continuing to whisper to him.

_'It doesn't matter what you do, Arawn will prevail. You cannot win against him. He is your master for a reason.'_

_'He is not my master,'_ the Horned King growled to himself.

_'Not anymore. He is dead.'_

_'And yet his spirit lives on, undefeatable. He will never stop until he has your soul, you know. It doesn't matter what he has to do to make sure he achieves his goal. He is as heartless as you.'_

_'That much is true,'_ the Horned King thought to himself.

_'Everything I learned, everything I am today, is because of him.'_

_'Not all,'_ the Cauldron told him mockingly.

_'He had to have a seed of darkness there to work with first. And you grew into evil so easily, it was like you were born for it.'_

The Horned King snarled out loud, fisting his hands tightly.

_'Silence.'_

He fancied it gave a soft chuckle.

_'As you wish.'_

Angrily he resumed his pacing.

_'Arawn may be heartless, but he does not believe in attacking something for no reason. It wastes time, energy and resources. He was a warlord like myself, the perfect strategist. He knew how to spot threats and eliminate them before they even became a problem, without ever having to expend more energy than necessary, something he taught me as well. Which I failed to put into use here. I should have known he would go for the only chance I have to free my soul from the Cauldron's grasp. And for all I know, he may well have already destroyed it.'_

Avalina's screams and sobs came back to him, and he gritted his fangs tightly. He was all too aware of what his master could do, not just physically, but inside the mind as well. He had watched him do it, and even helped him when he had been learning how to do them as well. They were unspeakable things, things grown men could not withstand. There had been one occasion when his master, in a fit of rage, had turned it on the Horned King as well.

Fighting down a shudder, the lich continued his silent thinking.

_'Therefore, the only way he would have bothered with her was if he considered her a threat to his own goals. Does that mean. . .'_

The Horned King stopped pacing, an epiphany hitting him.

_'Does that mean I may have some hope, after all?'_

If that was true, then. . .this feeling in his chest Avalina had explained to him that flared every time he was around her was not a false emotion. It was not a simple delusion of his mind. It may very well be real.

He had pondered on this for some time, and now he finally decided that it was quite real.

_'So, I am indeed hoping,'_ he thought to himself, wondering how to take this news.

_'This is. . .unexpected, to say the least. But I cannot deny it makes perfect sense, in a way. Everything that has happened concerning him. . .the measures he seems to be going to to prevent it. . .'_

His mind took another tack.

_'But this should be impossible. It is, by all means. I am heartless. I have been told that so many times, and even if I had not, I would know it to be true. I no longer possess one. I lost it long ago in my quest for ultimate power. To have hope, you must have a heart first.'_

The Horned King shook his head slowly.

_'That part does not add up. Unless what I am feeling is a twisted version of the real thing.'_

It must have been several hours later, not far from dawn, when an Invisible tapped on his door.

"Sire, Avalina has finally gone to sleep. She was determined to stay awake for the rest of the night, and considering the amount of encouragement she had to do so, she may have succeeded, despite her exhaustion. We had no choice but to slip her a sedative."

The Horned King nodded faintly, still angry at himself for being so blind to his old master's wiles.

_'I would not wish to sleep either, after that.'_

"She is not to be left alone at night," he ordered them, "Under any circumstances. Or anywhere else you think she may accidently fall asleep, for that matter. She is to be kept under constant vigilance."

"Yes, Sire."

"Let her rest as long as she will. There will be no music today. Anything she needs, make sure she gets."

_'No doubt if Arawn was sending her nightmares, they contained me in some way or another in a less than pleasant light. It is understandable she will not want to come near me for a few days. Not that I blame her.'_

"As you command," The Invisible answered.

"Good," he said, his voice hard.

"Sire?"

"What?"

"I regret to inform you that you have twelve moons remaining."

The Horned King was silent for a long moment before nodding faintly.

"You are dismissed."

* * *

Avalina slowly opened her eyes, staring fuzzily at the wall.

Sunlight covered it.

Yawning, she wondered blearily what time it was. The sun never covered the wall that much in the mornings when she usually woke. She must have slept in.

_'The nightmare.'_

Instantly Avalina jerked up into a sitting position, her heart racing.

Her body protested mightily, feeling stiff all over.

Her sharp movement brought on a cry of surprised pain from her as she gripped her stomach, remembering what had happened the night before.

_'He killed me,'_ she remembered, all traces of sleepiness gone.

_'Again. And not just me this time. It was my family too. . .and Mitternacht.'_

Tears immediately slid down her cheeks to fall on the blankets.

_'I lost them all.'_

Avalina wasn't certain what she had seen, exactly. In her last nightmare like that, she had witnessed what had happened previously, before the Horned King's supposed demise. Was this a dark sign of things to come? Avalina trembled violently at the notion.

_'But the Cauldron is gone, isn't it?'_ She thought to herself.

_'I heard that the Witches of Morva took it, whoever they are. The Horned King can't use it anymore, it was permanently deactivated.'_

She frowned slightly, wiping her eyes.

_'At least, that's what I heard. But I also heard that the Horned King was dead, and that turned out to be less than true.'_

Shivering faintly, she sat down in the chair in front of the fire, staring at her breakfast without seeing it.

_'What if I was seeing something that hasn't happened yet? What if I was seeing what he would do to my family, with or without the Cauldron-Born?'_

She shuddered, trying to block out the horrifying images.

_'He gave his word they would not be harmed if I stayed here, which I have done. But what if he was lying to me? He's the Horned King, he must have lied to hundreds of people. . .'_

Raising her gaze, she saw a roll of parchment on the table, and with her stomach twisting in knots, read it.

After a moment, she lay it back down with a sigh of relief.

"No music today."

She wasn't hungry in the slightest, but she forced herself to eat some, knowing she needed it, and the Invisibles would be hurt if she didn't eat anything.

After forcing down a few bites, she immediately went to the stable to care for Mitternacht, wondering how his foot had fared during the night.

Pushing open the door, her heart leapt joyfully when Mitternacht's head poked cheerfully over the stall door, whinnying to her in greeting.

Already she felt better.

After he ate, she pulled him into the hall (He was walking much better, she noticed) and carefully peeled off the bandage.

The stench made her cough.

"Gracious."

Curling her lip, she looked at all the pus that had came out of his foot and had accumulated on the bandage. The black salve wasn't so black anymore either.

"You had more in there than I thought, boy," she told him as used another rag to wipe his foot clean.

"But we'll draw it all out. I hope."

After letting his foot air out while she brushed him, she dipped his hoof in a water bucket to wash away the remnants of the black glop and other filth, before carefully patting it dry and redressing it.

"Remind me to watch all around that area in your hoof, boy," she told him as she put away her materials.

"The last thing we need is to have you lame over a cracked hoof on top of an infected one. Although I don't think that will happen, Mueric told me you have hooves like steel. He's right too."

She grinned a bit painfully as she stretched, remembering her hard work from yesterday, before groaning in relief as she felt her back pop.

"Alright, Mitternacht," Avalina told him, pulling out the lunge line, "Let's go for a walk. You need exercise and I want to see how the little garden's coming."

The horse happily followed her out of the stable, limping but nonetheless in good spirits.

Walking together like the best friends they were, they went over the drawbridge, a small cloud of dust stirred up by their feet creating a soft curtain behind them, leaving only their silhouettes visible as they walked away from the castle, side by side.

* * *

The Horned King watched them walk out together, able to see even without his spyglass from this distance that the horse was walking much better now than he had only yesterday morning.

They headed in the direction of the garden, taking their time. Avalina stopped once to speak to the horse, possibly to encourage him on, before the thin dust screen covered them.

The horse seemed to shift excitedly on his feet, moving much better than he had previously.

_'You did well, Avalina,'_ The Horned King thought, feeling a small seed of pride inside him.

_'You did well.'_

* * *

"I cannot be the only one that saw that."

"Nope! I saw it too! Ain't it beautiful?"

"It sure is! I mean, the circumstances weren't, but I'm telling you what I'm seein'. . ."

"Aw naw, now, I'll tell you what *I'M* seein'. . ."

"I think what you think I'm seein' is the same thing you seem so sure that you're seein'."

"No, I think what you think *I'M* seein' is the same thing you seem to think you're seein'."

"I think I *know* what I'm seein' is what you think I'm seein'."

"What if we *are* seein' the same things we think each other's seein'?"

"And what if we're not just seein' things that aren't there?"

"Well, we'd both have to be seein' things together, then."

"What if I told you I was seein'. . ."

"ENOUGH!" The first Invisible bellowed.

"I think we *all* know what we're *all* seeing, so you can shut up now and continue that blasted conversation somewhere out of my earshot."

"Jeez, somebody lost a trolley this morning," the second grumbled.

"With the whole flipping cargo," the third muttered.

"What are we seeing?" The fourth asked as it came into the room.

"No, don't ask. . .!"

"PROGREEEEEESS!"

"PROGREEEEEESS!"

A groan could be heard, followed by mad cackling.

"Sorry," the fourth said apologetically, but it couldn't keep the amusement out of it's voice.

"I'm sure you are," the first one replied in an unconvinced voice.

"Avalina's out at the garden with the horse," the fourth Invisible said.

"I thought I'd leave her alone for a little while. She can sense us very easily, now that she knows what we 'Feel,' like, I guess."

"That's one of the reasons Arawn was able to get to her so easy, I'll bet," the third Invisible said.

"She's so sensitive to her surroundings it's nearly impossible to be in the same room with her without her knowing."

"But he wasn't in the same room. He's bound to the Cauldron, bound *inside* it rather, remember?" The second reminded them.

"Of course," the fourth replied, "But his power is so great, and her own aura is so strong, he wouldn't have had a whole lot of trouble getting to her. But Fates willing, that will change from here on out."

"Oh yeah," the third Invisible answered, a streak of vicious glee emerging in its voice, "Just let him try again! We'll send him running back to that hunk of iron like a hog on ice! Pow-pow-pow!"

"He won't even know what hit him," the second swore, a sound following that suggested it was cracking its knuckles.

"We'll see who's being tormented when we get through with him!"

"Yes," the first Invisible spoke up.

"You all heard what the master said. From now on, one of us has to stay with her at all times."

"Almost all times," the second corrected. "Give her a little privacy."

"Fine, but gather round. We're all going to have to take shifts, and here's the places I think she needs to be watched the most. . ."

* * *

**Thank you for reading my fanfiction so far! :D Reviews much appreciated!**


	86. Chapter 86

Chapter 86

"You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd actually think he didn't care about her," the third Invisible said thoughtfully, after plans had been thought up and decided on. The other Invisibles had gone their separate ways, leaving the two alone.

"He's a marvelous slab of stone. What I wouldn't give to draw on him."

"But since you and I *do* know better, it's pretty obvious he does care," The second one said happily.

"And he thinks he doesn't. Pah! Da signs, mon. Dem signs."

"I see dem!" The third chuckled, before saying in a reminiscing tone, "Ol' Hat-Rack's not quite the same critter he was a while ago. I hardly recognize him."

"I agree," the second answered, sounding halfway sniffly.

"Our little Buster-Brown is growing up. Isn't it just so. . .(Sniff) beautiful?"

"That it is, mein freund," the third said reverently, sounding choked up, "That it is. I mean, you know, they're all wicked and heartless one day, turn around and then they're all in denial the next."

"And then they finally do admit it, and that's when I'll really break down," the second one said, sounding a bit watery, "Cause then he'll be all grown up."

The two of them sniffled for a moment.

"Last night when he heard her screaming, he *leapt* for that doorknob, trying to get to her. And it's not just that either, his taste and smell's come back."

"That was surprising to me, I sure didn't expect it. The guy's kind of, oh, I don't know. . .Dead? The last thing I expected him to be doing is regaining his senses, although to be honest, he didn't have that many more to lose."

"We should have banged him over the head with a few more pans, it might have beat some sense into him faster."

"Or threw more trolleys down the stairs. Boy, was that fun!"

"Next time we're going to see how many we can fit down the chimney!"

Cackles followed for a moment.

"Well, you do remember what we discussed about her, don't you?"

"Of course. The thing we've been holding over Dusty's head since she got here?" The third said, grinning.

The second cackled at this.

"How could I forget? Do you know if they've ever found out?"

"I don't think so. If they did they'd be rubbing it all in our faces."

"True. I think we can hold it over their heads for a little longer, you reckon?"

"Does Creeper hate horses?"

A snort followed, before they sat in silence for a moment.

"Well, half the day's gone, what're we gonna do? We've got to do at least one diabolical thing before midnight."

"I'm thinking," the second said, before suddenly saying, "Heeey. . .remember that plan we had like, a month ago, and never had a chance to do?"

"Gosh, we've made so many. . .which one do you speak of, my deliciously diabolical duo-to-my-uno amigo?"

"Funny you should word it that way, my fudgy-not-pudgy-buddy. Well, since Avalina's gonna be scared out of her mind of Buster-Brown for a little while. . ."

"You think we should speed things up?"

"Exactly."

"I'm all ears."

* * *

Avalina was overjoyed with the progress Mitternacht had already made. She had trotted and walked him alternately for a long time, being careful of his foot, and then worked the garden a little, delighting in the green sprouts that were shooting up like they simply just couldn't wait.

Feeling better, she had finally taken him back to the stable, redressed his foot and stayed with him til dark, before reluctantly going in to wash up for supper.

The Invisibles, she had noticed, didn't seem to care what she wore during the day, but when evening came around and it was time to meet the Horned King in the dining hall, they became fussier about her clothing than her mother ever had.

They would seem to lecture with each other, but not necessarily argue, about what she would wear every night.

After a while, she had caught on to their habits.

Depending on how many were picking things out, normally one would select the dress, another would select the shoes to fit, another would fix her hair, and another would occasionally select a piece of jewelry to go along with it, if it didn't look like too much.

Tonight her dress was a lovely dappled silvery color, with small crystal-like stones sewn in intricate patterns going down the bodice.

A small, unobtrusive silver circlet sat lightly across her forehead, nearly lost in her wild hair, but the Invisible had cleverly woven small strands of her hair through the circlet to hold it firmly in place, so Avalina would not have to worry about it falling off.

As she looked herself over in the mirror, Avalina noticed that this was the first time they had given her anything to wear that even vaguely resembled a crown.

Now that she thought about it, she wasn't sure she felt comfortable in it, but the Invisible had gone to so much trouble to fix it tonight. . .she kept her mouth shut.

Like her mother had often said, "No one is more insufferable than they who lack basic courtesy."

And so, the Invisibles flitted through the air on their way to the dining hall, the regularity in the breeze making Avalina wonder if they weren't in fact dancing to the beat of her bootheels.

Feeling her terror surface all over again, she nervously allowed the Invisibles to serve her.

Something she noticed while trying not to notice anything that was going on at the other end of the table was that the Horned King seemed to be taking more of an interest in the mealtime proceedings than normal. Normally he sat there like a stone, but this time. . .it was different.

And as she watched him cautiously from the edge of her vision, she saw him take a very small amount of a few dishes.

He looked up and caught her watching, causing her to duck her head, flushing in embarrassment.

"As of last night, what I told you earlier no longer applies," he ground out.

"Apparently I am able to taste now."

Startled at this, Avalina looked up to meet his gaze.

"Really?" She asked, her heart bouncing slightly.

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

She wished she could have summoned more joy for this obviously tremendous event, especially after she had shown such sympathy previously, but her nightmare still plagued her and made talking with him more than difficult.

He nodded faintly, although the air felt quite pleased.

"Yes. I can smell again as well, it seems, though I do not know the reason why."

She noticed within the first three minutes that he never took a bite when she was watching, so she tactfully avoided looking over at him.

The meal was rather quiet, although Avalina's nerves were stretched to breaking point, her nightmare playing over and over inside her head.

The Invisibles brought out a trolley loaded with several different sorts of desserts, serving Avalina first. If she hadn't been so nervous she would have asked the Horned King which one he would like, but her fear kept her silent.

Avalina didn't really want to put anything else in her stomach, but the Invisibles were extremely pushy tonight, so she bit her lip and picked out a small slice of something that looked like chocolate cream pie. It certainly smelled good.

The trolley was pushed around to the Horned King's end of the table, and Avalina watched, wondering which one he might pick.

Suddenly, another trolley crashed through the door, and Avalina felt the mood in the air change immediately.

The new trolley was much more banged up than the one currently at the table, overflowing with brightly colored paper and streamers. A swift tattoo of horns and whistles emanated from it.

The other trolley was yanked quickly out of the way as the new arrival rocketed right toward the table. . .

It skidded harshly across the floor, braking to a halt, mere inches from the table. The Horned King looked ready to snarl something, but the trolley suddenly seemed to explode.

All manner of streamers, confetti and glitter were suddenly everywhere in the room. An inch of it covered the floor, and more came down like rain from the ceiling, to rest on the table, in the food, and the two people sitting there.

Waving some away from her face, Avalina gaped at the scene.

The Horned King had been showered with paper and confetti. Streamers of brightly colored ribbons hung off his horns as thickly as moss would on an old tree limb, and he looked like they had simply turned the bucket of glitter upside down over him.

He was shiny. He was sparkly. He glittered. He positively *glowed.*

Avalina couldn't help the bout of laughter that made itself known, despite her fresh terror of him. It was just too much.

At the far corner of her hearing, she could hear the Invisibles trying and failing to be quiet, which only made her laugh harder.

The Horned King gave her a dark look, which promptly shut her up.

Growling to himself, he could only imagine what he looked like.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY HAT-RACK!"

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUSTER-BROWN!"

"All of ya'll give a hand for our big birthday boy!" One of them shouted.

"He's growin' up!"

"And if you're ever gonna be big and strong, you must have SUGAR!"

Avalina was having a wretched time keeping her giggles in the Horned King managed to look even less enthused than he had previously.

"Sire, you're glowing!"

Avalina snapped a hand over her mouth, wishing she hadn't said that and wondering where in blazes it had came from.

The Horned King managed to give her a thoroughly unamused look, and then his brow ridges shot high into the air for a fraction of a second before a cream pie appeared out of nowhere and hit him square in the face.

Explosions of uncontrollable laughter rang through the room from all sides, Avalina's among them.

Avalina gripped her stomach, praying she wouldn't pass out from laughing so hard as she bent over the table, (Which had thankfully been cleared on her end) and laughed in helpless mirth.

The pie pan and the flimsy crust slowly slid off the Horned King's face to land sluggishly in his lap, and his face couldn't even be seen through a wall of white.

Avalina was bent over the table, trying valiantly to stop laughing, but every second she looked up at him, the worse her laughter got.

The Invisibles didn't help. Different types of laughter filled the room to bursting, ringing off the old walls and enhancing the hilarity.

Slowly, deliberately, the Horned King felt around for the towel lying on the corner of the table and wiped his face with it, his features slowly coming back into view.

Avalina managed to straighten up then, as the glare he sent them was fit to kill with.

Her fear rising up again, she shrank down in her seat, but the Invisibles weren't finished yet.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY BUSTER-BROWN

THE BADDEST LICH FOR MILES AROUND

HE-EEEE GIVES A TRIPLE-WHAM

AND HE MAKES CREAMED GLITTER LOOK SO GLAAAAM!"

Avalina fought to keep her composure as the Horned King slowly turned to the air on his right, looking very nearly murderous.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!

WE PRAY YOU DON'T COME UNGLUED!

CAUSE IIIIIIIIFF YOU DOO-OOO

REMODELING WILL BE QUITE CRUUUUUUDE!"

Avalina couldn't help the laughter that spilled out. She just couldn't help it. These Invisibles were hilarious.

"Is. . .haha. . .it really your birthday?" Avalina gasped out.

The Horned King slowly turned in her direction, before shaking his head once.

"I don't remember."

"Well, from now on, today's officially your birthday!" An Invisible cackled madly.

"Best wishes, Horny-Poo!"

The Horned King looked like he'd swallowed a lemon, his voice as flat as the table top.

"Ohhh. . .goody."

Avalina could only laugh helplessly, sensing no danger in the air as she fought to breathe and laugh at the same time, realizing that she no longer felt afraid.

And for the moment, she really didn't care.

* * *

**Thank you to everyone who reviews, I really appreciate it! To Laughing jill, thank you so much for leaving a comment, it means a lot:) I'm glad all of ya'll like my story enough to keep reading, even with this many chapters XD. I had no intention for this thing to be even half as long as it is now, but when the plunnies abound, stuff's goin' DOWN!...on Paypah! LOL**

**Also, just in case somebody didn't know, at the beginning of this chapter, when the Invisible said "Mein freund," it means "My friend," in German;)**


	87. Chapter 87

Chapter 87

After the meal, the Horned King walked Avalina to her room, despite the fact that he was still covered in the aftermath of the "Party." He left a trail of glittery confetti everywhere he walked, and Avalina thought this was hilarious.

So did the Invisibles.

Keeping out of his aura, Avalina felt most of the fear from her nightmare dissipate as they talked.

"Sire?" she asked hesitantly, the slight change in her voice causing him to look at her more intently.

"Yes?"

"Where did Creeper come from?"

The Horned King stiffened slightly and Avalina flinched, before he regained his composure.

"He was an accident."

Avalina's eyebrow came up, inviting him to go on.

"What happened?"

"What did he tell you?" The Horned King demanded.

"Nothing," Avalina said, jumping slightly in fright.

"He just said he doesn't remember any more like him, and. . .I was just wondering."

The Horned King was silent so long she didn't think he would answer her at all, but finally, his voice grated out into the air.

"He was a failed experiment I was working on. It did not succeed, and he was created instead. When I was working on a concoction to aid me in something, a small stone figure fell off the decaying castle and into my work area. Thus came along the Creeper."

Avalina noticed how callously he spoke of the goblin, how coldly, as if he did not care a single bit what happened to him.

"That item was for me, and he took it away," the lich growled softly to himself.

"He had no right."

"It wasn't his fault," Avalina said softly, "He was only stone when it happened."

Now she knew why he was so cruel to the goblin. She could feel his anger about the matter, and it scared her.

"Centuries of work, gone in a moment."

She wondered if he even remembered she was there.

"What was it that you wanted?"

"Nothing of your concern."

Frightened, Avalina asked no more.

When they approached her door and an Invisible opened it for her, she asked, "Are you angry about what they did? Earlier?"

The Horned King growled softly.

"Not as badly as they would like, I'm sure."

Seeing her expression, he softened slightly.

"It no doubt looked very amusing, yes?"

Avalina gave a small giggle.

"Yes, it did. You still look funny."

She laughed again as he looked down at his sparkling robe, feeling the weight of the ribbons hanging off his horns follow the movement.

"I can only imagine."

Giggling, she told him," And you still have cream everywhere."

"Don't remind me."

Avalina laughed as the Horned King slowly shook his head.

"I will let you retire."

As he walked away, Avalina suddenly remembered something.

"Sir!" She called, walking back up to him, still keeping her distance.

He turned back, stopping as he waited for her to speak.

"Yes?"

Avalina froze for a moment, wondering how to word it. She had to know, but at the same time, saying something about it could make him angry.

He stood patiently as she struggled with herself, frowning slightly when he sensed the desperation there.

"You won't kill my family, will you?" Avalina asked, her eyes clouding up.

The Horned King twitched a brow ridge. This was unexpected. She hadn't brought her family up for quite some time, and he wondered what had brought this on.

Her fear was building again, and then he understood. Her nightmare must have contained him killing her family in some way. He felt a surge of anger against Arawn for this, before he controlled himself.

"Not if you remain here," he told her, his voice colder than normal. "I will keep my word if you keep yours."

"Promise?"

He nearly huffed.

"Yes."

Turning away, he began to leave again as she whispered.

"Goodnight."

The word made him pause slightly, before he continued on his way, nonetheless answering her.

"Goodnight."

* * *

The garden was growing faster than Avalina had ever dreamed imaginable. It seemed to rise from the ground as if it were on wings. She swore, all she had to do was close her eyes for a moment, and then open them to see that the green things all around her had spread and grown taller in that one moment.

Weeding was almost minimal. Thick soft grass was spreading over the ground, with hardly a weed to be seen. The sun was warm, the breeze was cool and light, and the earth was rich.

Closing her eyes, Avalina leaned into the sun's warmth and the breeze's caress like someone else might their lover, scarcely able to contain how joyful she was.

The scent of the lakewater mingled with the scent of the flowers and green things all around, and Avalina inhaled deeply.

It smelled so wonderful, she wondered if the Horned King could smell it from the castle. . .

_'The Horned King. . .'_

Opening her eyes, she realized the sun was directly overhead.

_'Music hour!'_

Avalina gasped aloud and leaped to her feet, running toward the castle as fast as she could, fear aiding her feet.

_'I'm late!'_

* * *

In the two weeks since the Invisibles had been keeping guard, Avalina had had no more nightmares, and she steadily became more cheerful.

This pleased him.

What didn't please him was the fact that she was late. Avalina was never late.

The Horned King stared out of the window, watching the drawbridge. Watching for her.

He had been irritated at first, which then gave to wondering if something had happened.

He must not have been watching the drawbridge that well, for he heard her running feet coming down the hall toward the music room.

She was wise to run. He did not appreciate being kept waiting.

Her aura hit him well before she opened the door and came inside.

He turned around to say something reproachful, but stopped in mid-breath.

Dirt stains covered her split skirt and boots, proving she had been working in her garden. The sun had gently kissed her face, turning it so very faintly pink, and her hair looked as if the wind's breath had filled it and tossed it to and fro. The light in her eyes was so bright he thought for the briefest of moments that they might actually catch a greenish-gold fire. She looked completely. . .

_'Angelic.'_

The thought made itself known before he could stop it, but he realized it was completely true. In all his existence, he didn't think he had ever seen something, or someone, overflowing with so much life. . .Her aura was the strongest he had ever felt it, and he felt it wash against him as the scent of earth and flowers blew in the door with her. It was all so strong. . .weakly, he sat down as another wave assaulted him when she moved.

"I'm sorry, sir!" She gasped, obviously terrified that he would be angry. "I lost track of time and. . ."

The Horned King held up a hand for silence, still overwhelmed by the sheer power of her aura.

Trembling, Avalina fell quiet.

_'Oh, he's furious!'_ She thought miserably, watching him.

_'I am in so much trouble!'_

The Horned King stared at her for so long she seemed to shrink under his gaze, not wanting him to finally voice his displeasure.

She jumped when he spoke.

"I will excuse you, this time," he told her, causing her to look up in relief, "On one condition."

Avalina tensed slightly.

"Y-yes, sir?"

Here, the Horned King paused, and when he continued, his voice was as monotone and gravelly as ever, but somehow it sounded. . .wistful.

"That you bring in the Life with you from now on."

"I. . .I'll try, sir."

The Horned King gave a brief nod.

"Good. Now," He said, twitching the fingers of his right hand faintly toward the piano bench, "You may begin."

* * *

It was very late that night, well after the meal, and the Horned King was walking through the castle, not anywhere in particular, when he happened to pass the library and see the fire still going instead of having burned down.

Carefully approaching the circle of furniture, he froze in surprise for nearly a full moment.

Avalina was stretched out on the couch by the fire, a book on her stomach, a page marked by one of her fingers, sound asleep. The firelight made her hair shimmer faintly in the darkness as it fell over the couch arm in tossing, curling waves.

Hardly daring to even move, the Horned King carefully inched closer, studying her. He sensed an Invisible in the room, but he paid it no mind.

He felt the strength of her aura press against him at the ten-foot mark, and he lifted a hand faintly, as if to touch it. It was so strong, so very strong, he half expected it to take a bodily form all of its own.

Of course, it already had. Avalina was the bodily form her spirit took.

Slowly, moving like the undead creature he was, he came closer, stepping inside the unspoken boundary they had mutually agreed on without ever having to say a word. Avalina could not stand his aura at such close proximity for very long.

He heard the Invisible give a soft, warning hiss as he bent down, and he remembered all too well what they had spat at him the day he had visited her while she had been recovering from her time in the dungeon.

_'Don't you dare touch her! A monster like you doesn't even deserve to *look* at something like her!'_

And they were right. They had been then and they still were now.

He didn't deserve it.

The Horned King carefully slipped the book from her fingers, marking it with a piece of paper she had on the table by the couch, silently reading the title as he did so.

_'The Legends of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table.'_

The Horned King twitched his head slightly.

_'Fairytales.'_

As he set the book on the table, a soft gasp drew his attention back to Avalina.

She panted slightly in her sleep, as if fighting for air, and he remembered his aura of Death he carried with him.

Slowly, so as not to rip it forcefully from her, he backed away from her, until her breathing eased and became regular again.

Despite the fire, the room was cool, and he did not miss the fact that she was shivering slightly.

He beckoned at the Invisible for a blanket.

"There isn't any available right now," it whispered. "I'd have to go get one, and that would take half an hour or more."

"Can't you conjure one?"

"The Fates were not happy we let Avalina hear us and so forth," the Invisible said sheepishly.

"Our conjuring gifts have been temporarily revoked."

"For how long?" The Horned King hissed angrily.

"About a week, I guess."

Snarling softly to himself, he stared at Avalina's sleeping form, which occasionally shuddered as a shiver went through her, before mentally throttling those blasted Invisibles.

_'I cannot believe I am doing this.'_

With a soft sigh, he undid the clasp that held his fur stole around his neck and beckoned for the Invisible to use it. He did not want to approach Avalina again. He could suffocate her without even trying.

The Invisible carefully laid it over her, her shivers stopping almost immediately, before the Invisible suddenly stiffened.

The Horned King could not see, but he felt the air change.

"What?" He hissed.

The answer was like a deadweight.

"Arawn."

The Horned King stiffened himself, his gaze immediately going to Avalina. She hadn't moved yet.

"Come, my friends!" The Invisible cried softly.

"He is here!"

Instantly the Horned King felt the area around the fire get rather crowded as the Invisibles formed a circle around the girl, talking amongst themselves.

"Is he already inside her head?"

"Yes, but he hasn't started acting yet. We have to push him back."

"How?"

"Turn his bad images into good ones before she sees them."

They grew silent after that, no doubt working. The Horned King sensed the need for silence and kept it. The last thing the Invisibles needed now was a distraction.

He stood there for a very long time, before finally sitting down in a chair, feeling odd without the familiar weight on his back.

Avalina shifted in her sleep, turning over to face the lich, snuggled comfortably under his stole. Her face held no tension or fear, and the Horned King sank his claws into the chair, willing her not to see the horrors his master was no doubt trying to unleash against her mind.

The Horned King had no idea what was going on, and it took all of his control to keep from demanding an answer. The Invisibles were having quite a time, he could sense their tension.

Once, Avalina's brow twitched down and she gave the tiniest of whimpers. To anyone else it wouldn't even be noticeable, but the lich was ten feet from her, and he gritted his fangs together, fighting down the urge to shake her awake then and there to prevent Arawn from even posing a threat for the moment.

_'Fight it,' _he thought, gripping the chair even tighter.

_'Don't let him snare you.'_

It must have been over half an hour later when the Invisibles finally gasped in relief, sounding worn, but triumphant.

"Whew, finally, he's gone."

"For now. But he'll be back, you can bet on that."

"He gave us a fair amount of trouble. For a second I was worried he'd broken through our defenses."

"He did, but Avalina didn't see a thing. She just felt danger in that dream she was having, until we chased him out."

"Boy, he was madder than a hornet."

The Horned King thought they sounded entirely too pleased with that fact.

He listened to them swap shifts, and the others left, with a promise from the one on guard to alert them immediately if there was the slightest hint of trouble.

Staring at the sleeping girl, the Horned King felt an odd spark rise up inside him.

His master had tried to hurt her again. And he had lost.

_'You can go choke on your failure, Master,'_ He thought in malicious satisfaction, remaining seated, watching her.

_'You're not getting her again.'_

* * *

**A gi-normous bellow-out to my very first reviewer and favoriter on here, Kitteninthemoonlight! Please accept this chapter as a birthday gift from me! I hope you enjoy it! :D And you girl, are awesome. Don't ever forget it! And when life gets you down, "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. . ." Is it bad I know that whole thing? LOL I hope your birthday is epically awesome and totally tubular! LOL**

**And to Laughing jill. . .girl, I read *ALL* comments XD. They are treated with all the reverence of priceless jewels XD.**


	88. Chapter 88

Chapter 88

"Alright, Mitternacht, I think it's time for step two," Avalina told him, wiping the last bit of gunk off his hoof and eyeing it closely.

"The infection's all gone, from what I can tell."

Over the past week, the horse's infection had cleared up marvelously, and he was nearly completely sound at a canter. He was well on the road to recovery, and Avalina was immensely pleased with his progress.

For several days the hoof had done nothing but leak, and the salve had encouraged this, working deep into the wound and pulling anything out that shouldn't be there.

Testing the hoof again, Avalina could feel that it was slightly sore, but only if she pressed very hard on the clinchers. Mitternacht should be completely back to normal in another week or so.

"I don't think it will crack the rest of the way, but its better to be safe than sorry," she told him, stepping back.

Mitternacht's hoof had split down the side, stemming from the groove she had hacked in it, going a little ways up toward the coronet band and then down towards his toe. Now that the wound was healed, she had to fix the cracks before they got any worse. They weren't dangerous yet, and as hard as Mitternacht's hooves were, she doubted they would ever reach that stage, but it always paid to be careful.

Sensing an Invisible nearby, she asked them to bring her some flint, steel, firewood and a bucket of water.

As it left to do what she asked, she could sense the puzzlement everywhere.

Rummaging about in the tackroom, she found a large straight nail that looked brand new. It would suit her need perfectly.

After tying Mitternacht in the courtyard, Avalina used the things the Invisibles had brought her to make a small, hot fire, laying the nail on the pan's rim.

When it got hot enough to glow a bright cherry red, she used the clinchers to pick it up, before laying a hand on Mitternacht's ankle.

"Boy, its imperative you don't move," she told him.

"The last thing I need to do is burn you by accident."

Carefully, she pressed the glowing nail against the cracks in the horse's hoof, scorching them to prevent them from cracking any further. She did this several times, being careful not to hit the area where it was still sensitive.

Mitternacht stood quietly and did not move, although he watched with great interest.

Finally, Avalina threw the nail in the bucket, hearing the snarl as it hit the water, and picked up the hoof nippers she had taken outside, nipping away the excess hoof that had grown out before evening it all up with the hoof rasp, one foot at a time. Mitternacht's feet were like steel, but the overgrown part came away easier than the carving she had had to do a while back. Normally this wouldn't be necessary, but the horse had not been exercised recently as much as usual, and he had had no way to wear his feet down himself.

Finally finished, Avalina carefully walked Mitternacht around the courtyard, watching him.

He walked easily, with only the slightest sign of a limp. To people that didn't know him it wouldn't even be noticeable. He should be completely back to normal within another week or so.

Feeling jubilant, she cleaned her things away and the two of them headed out to the garden, walking together. Mitternacht hadn't seen the garden for a few days, and she wanted him to get some exercise.

The horse was hyper and danced all around her, pretending to shy from her. Avalina jumped at him, causing him to race around and whip past her, inviting her to play.

"Oh, you're on."

* * *

The Horned King, watching from his window, furrowed a brow ridge as he watched Avalina chase her horse all over the dusty ground outside, waving a lead rope.

This was most unusual behavior.

It became even more unusual when the horse turned around and started chasing her.

He tensed, wondering if the horse had finally gone savage after staying here for so long.

The horse blew past her, bucking and snorting, and a few tinkling notes of laughter blew up to the window, carried on the breeze.

After a few more moments observation, he realized they were playing, heading in the general direction of the garden.

He watched them for some time, leaping and running around, and the corners of his mouth twitched up faintly.

He had never been one to think that horses could feel. They were only animals, and emotions for a beast of burden had seemed preposterous. He had never thought of them as anything but tools. But this one. . .Mitternacht, was it? Was something different.

The Horned King silently recalled the first time he had met the horse face to face, remembering the disarming stare the horse had dealt him. In that brief moment, the Horned King had felt so small, so unworthy. . .he had felt like dust, staring into those deep, deep eyes.

The horse trusted Avalina explicitly, and Avalina trusted him. The Horned King had observed them together so much, he could see how deep their friendship ran. Even if Avalina had not told him the backstory, he would have been able to tell. It was a friendship that was as unusual as it was true.

Watching them, he felt that weight on his chest again.

_'The Fates favor her,'_ he thought.

_'Such a friendship is nigh impossible to find in human standards, let alone in the animal realm. And yet, she earned it. The horse decided she was worthy and allowed her in. A friendship like that is something many humans will never have in an entire lifetime, let alone at her age. She doesn't know how lucky she's got it.'_

The Horned King looked down for a moment, the outside light glinting faintly off the crescent-shaped clasp of his stole and catching his eye.

_'Arawn may have lost this time,'_ he thought, remembering the incident last night,_ 'But he will not give up. No doubt he is furious at the Invisibles and myself for getting in his way. We must take precautions. But he cannot harm us. And now he cannot harm her.'_

He felt a spark of triumph burn inside him.

_'She will be able to sleep now.'_

He glanced out the window again, searching for the girl, the weight in his chest grew slightly heavier when he realized that neither she nor the horse were visible any more.

* * *

Avalina played with Mitternacht until she was so tired she had to sit on the grass to catch her breath. Mitternacht happily started grazing, enjoying the first green food he had had in months.

The garden was growing and spreading quite quickly. Avalina could scarcely believe it. It was just so fast. . .she lay back on the grass after pulling up the few weeds she could see, recalling the incident this morning.

She had been reading in the library last night, and she must have fallen asleep, for she woke up on the couch by the fire. Something she didn't expect was to find the Horned King's stole draped over her, keeping her warm. That had been highly unexpected, and more than a little frightening.

The Invisibles explained through parchment that they had ran out of blankets and the Horned King had happened to stop in. After the initial terror that he had been around when she wasn't aware of him, the amount of gratitude that had welled up in her heart had been quite. . .different.

_'I knew he cared about me a little,'_ she thought, laughing joyfully out loud.

_'I knew he did!'_

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath of wonderful air.

_'I'm glad I decided to base my opinion off of him from my own experience, rather than what everyone else thinks. He was horribly wicked when I came, and he may be wicked still, but he has treated me well these past few weeks.'_

The sun was so warm. . .Avalina rested her hands on her stomach as she relaxed.

_'There may be some good in him after all. I just wish I could take those heavy things he carries with him away. He would feel so much better without them.'_

She heard Mitternacht grazing and the lake lapping softly at its edge. The wind whispered softly in the flowers, as if saying something she could not understand, but she did not bother to open her eyes. For a moment, she thought about getting up, but it sounded so beautiful. . .she would stay a while. She wouldn't be wanted back at the castle until nightfall.

Avalina was not aware she had dozed off until a soft muzzle rubbed against her face, warm air brushing her cheeks.

Dazedly, she opened her eyes to see Mitternacht standing over her like the guardian angel he was.

He sighed contentedly as she rubbed his face, before sitting up.

The sun was a bit low in the sky, about an hour from setting, and she realized she was rather cool.

"Alright, handsome," she told him as she got to her feet, "We should be getting back."

* * *

"Sir, why is it that the Invisibles are following me everywhere?" Avalina asked.

"They just started doing this, and its not like I'm rejecting their service or anything, but they have suddenly become very interested in tagging me all the time."

It was after the meal and they were simply talking, the Invisibles long gone from the room.

The Horned King stiffened slightly. He had been anticipating she would ask, and he had been pondering on how to explain it. Should he tell her or not?

He prepared to tell her it was none of her business, but she spoke up again.

"Did I do something wrong?"

He looked at her in surprise.

"No. Why would you ask that?"

"They're always following me, and I don't know why. Was it something I did?"

Seeing the half-frightened, half questioning look on her face, he relented.

She deserved to know.

"The nightmares you were having were not natural."

"You know about those?" She whispered, watching him.

He nodded faintly, seeing no need to walk around it.

"The Invisibles can prevent them from bothering you, which is why I ordered them to stay nearby. However, they took me a little too literally."

He growled softly.

"I will speak to them of this."

Trembling slightly, Avalina asked, "Do you know what's causing my. . .nightmares?"

The Horned King gave a brief nod to confirm it.

"Yes. It will not bother you again."

His tone indicated he would not give her anymore information about it.

There was a long pause as they sat there, Avalina finally saying, in a voice that was nearly a whisper, "Can. . .can you. . .promise that?"

The Horned King felt his rage at his master reach boiling point, seeing the look on her face, but with an effort he controlled himself.

"Yes, child. I promise."

Avalina nodded, a small amount of relief on her face.

"Thank you," she said softly, "For last night."

He stiffened slightly, remembering.

"It is nothing."

Deciding it was time to terminate this conversation, which would surely be heading into an area he did not wish to visit, he rose, breaking the mood and making her jump slightly.

"I will leave you now."

As Avalina rose too, she realized that. . .feeling he carried that she was sensing, was heavier than normal. It was so heavy. . .so very heavy. And oh, how she wished she could lift it.

"Sir!"

He turned halfway back to look at her.

"Yes?"

"Would. . .you like to come to the library with me?"

He paused for a moment, before slowly asking, "Don't you wish to be free of my company?"

Avalina realized with a start that for some reason, she did not. It was like the conversations they had had before, when she wanted to hear him talk of things she thought did not exist. When he wasn't being cruel he could provide such interesting conversation.

"No, not really," she said in a halfway puzzled voice, the realization hitting her.

The Horned King looked slightly taken aback at this.

"Why?"

"I. . .I don't know," Avalina admitted, looking down.

"I just thought. . ."

Her words no longer making sense, she shifted and blushed in embarrassment.

"I just thought you might want to, that's all."

The Horned King stood there for several moments, while Avalina twisted her hands behind her back uncomfortably, before he finally turned back to her.

"Very well."

* * *

**I really should have mentioned this back on Chapter 1, but I do not appreciate cuss words in my reviews. They're not pleasant to look at or read at all XD. No offense, guys, I hope you know I'm not trying to be mean, this is just something I forgot to mention earlier. No worries! ;) And once again, thank you all for reading my story, it means so much to me, it really does:) Please leave a review! :D**


	89. Chapter 89

Chapter 89

"Do you like to read?"

"I do not read much."

Avalina and the Horned King sat across from each other in the library, facing the fire at an angle, talking. Avalina's book from last night lay on the table between them, but she had made no move to pick it up.

"What do you like to do?"

The Horned King did not know how to answer this. He knew what he liked to do, or what he *had* enjoyed doing previously to being raised from the dead, rather, but they were things that Avalina would be horrified at and he had no wish to tell her.

"I don't know."

"You have to like something."

An answer appeared.

"I enjoy music," he rumbled.

Avalina gave a small laugh.

"Well, see, there's something!"

"It helps to pass the time."

"Do you play anything?"

"No."

"Have you ever wanted to learn?"

"I don't know," he answered, "I have not given it any thought."

"Are there any composers or bards you prefer?"

"I know little of music, let alone who wrote it," he answered, slightly irritated at himself that he could not provide any other answers.

"What kind of instruments do you like?"

Realizing that the only instrument he truly remembered was the one she played, he took it.

"I like piano."

"Me too!" She answered cheerfully, before asking another question.

"Do you like flowers?"

"I don't know," he replied a bit heavily, irritated that he could not clearly answer anything she asked. Deciding it was past time he asked a question himself and attempt to hold up his end of the conversation.

"Which do you prefer?"

"I love them all, but my favorites are the bright orange bush lilies. They're so pretty, they remind me of a sunset, they just take my breath away. And forget-me-nots. They're so blue! And tiny!"

The Horned King couldn't help the twitch the corners of his mouth gave at this statement.

"You seem to like blue and orange."

"I do! I like green and gold too, they look so full of life! Although I've never seen a green flower. Have you ever seen a green flower?"

The Horned King thought for a moment.

"No, I don't think so."

"Not even in pictures?" She asked, disappointed.

"No," he told her, before saying, "I do not think they exist."

"Well, I think they should," she told him, "They would be so special!"

"But they would blend in with everything else," the Horned King told her.

"Surely you would want something that stood out from the background?"

"That's what the others are for," she told him cheerfully.

"They make everything brighter and more colorful! But a green flower would be special because even though they might blend in with everything else, there would be nothing else like them in the whole world! It would take a fine eye to see them because they're so well hidden in the mass, but that would make them that much more valuable, because whoever found them would be beholding something truly special."

"I think it would be most unnatural."

"Half the stuff in this world is unnatural anyway," she told him, "But just because it might be considered different or unusual, doesn't make it bad. And common things are often so unique of themselves, sometimes people forget to look a little closer."

The Horned King listened in interest, the wheels in his head turning.

"You think the common things are special?"

"Of course!" Avalina said happily, as if it were perfectly obvious.

"The world couldn't work without them! Take brush farmers, for instance. They're about as common as dirt in Prydain. But they have something special about them that only someone with a sharp eye, and someone who really wants to see, can spot."

"And that would be what?" The Horned King asked, intrigued despite himself.

"They never give up," she answered. "Even if the crops are bad that year, or the harvest is thin, or whatever problem they may have, they never give up. They may nearly starve in the winter or drown in the spring in the rain, but brush farmers are survivors. All farmers are. And other people just don't realize it. They don't realize how special farmers are."

The Horned King was quiet, thinking.

"Just like the green flower," Avalina said cheerfully.

"They may look as common as dirt, but the reason they're special is right in front of people's faces, and they wouldn't even notice, because all they'd be comparing them to is with everything else. But if you'd set it somewhere differently, like, with flowers that are every color of the rainbow, it would sure stick out, now wouldn't it?"

"You could be a philosopher," the Horned King told her, his mouth twitching up faintly.

Avalina giggled, blushing.

"Thank you, sir."

"But I do not believe green flowers exist."

"Have you looked?"

The Horned King almost looked angry for a moment, but then relaxed, shaking his head slowly, seeing the truth in her words.

"No, child, I have not. Have you?"

"I try to," she told him, "But it's hard sometimes. Like everyone else, I truly enjoy the bright flowers and the butterflies and the colors that stand out from everything else around them. They're special in their way, too, and they make me so glad I can see those things. But just because you can't see something, doesn't mean it doesn't exist. I may not have found a green flower yet, but it might be out there somewhere."

They were both silent for a long time after that, lost in their own thoughts, listening to the snapping of the fire.

The Horned King gestured to the book on the table.

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, yes!" Avalina answered, pulling herself back to the present.

"It's very interesting! Do you like it?"

"I've never read it."

"Oh."

After several moments, the Horned King added, "But you may read it to me, if you like, if it is as interesting as you say."

"You mean, out loud?"

"If you wish."

Avalina picked up the book and flipped to the beginning.

"I'm afraid I don't read out loud very well."

"I will be the judge of that."

"Ok," Avalina laughed softly, settling back, "But don't blame me if your ears start aching later!"

* * *

The Invisibles watched silently through the library door, leaving as Avalina began to read.

"Wow!" The second squealed happily as soon as they were out of earshot, "Would you just look at that? Would you?"

"I know, it's adorable!" The third one said.

"I'm about to die of cuteness overload!"

"You better not!" The second said, "we have pranks to do!"

"I meant metaphorically, but ok!"

"That's. . .unbelievable," the fourth said in awe.

"And yet, I keep finding myself completely believing it. Did you notice?"

"Notice what?" The first asked.

"Avalina had no trace of fear on her. She wasn't afraid at all."

Murmurs of awe came from the others.

"I've noticed she rarely does when she's actually having a conversation with him."

"Yeah, it's like she forgets to be."

"That's good though, right?"

"Right. And his royal Spikiness seems to be more relaxed around her as well."

"Ooooh yeah, I see dem signs! Whoo!"

"Speaking of which, you and I have epicness to fulfill. Later, yo!"

"Later!"

The two left.

"Orion knows what they're up to now," the first Invisible grumbled.

"They've already gotten our conjuring powers taken away because they couldn't follow one simple order, and they don't seem the least bit embarrassed or irritated about it. It's shameful. Utterly shameful. Minors to the Fates themselves should not behave the way they do."

The fourth chuckled softly.

"They can't help that they're green flowers."

"Green flowers, Ha!" The first Invisible snorted.

"They stick out like sore thumbs. Oh, and what does that make me, pray tell? Daisies?" The first snorted.

The fourth laughed, unperturbed, "I was thinking of roses, but daisies will do nicely."

"Why roses?"

"Because under that prickly exterior, you're just as beautiful as they are, just in a very different way."

"You could have a future as a philosopher as well, you know."

"Why, thank you."

The two sat together for a moment.

"What flower would you compare the master with, just out of curiosity?" The first asked.

"Hm. . .well, I've heard Avalina talking to Mitternacht in the stable, and what she said made up my mind."

"What was that?"

"He's a dead stem because he's in a perpetual state of winter, and he needs a good spring awakening to stir him up. And as for what kind of flower he is. . .well, I have trouble thinking of him like that, but Avalina told Mitternacht it was because he hadn't budded yet."

* * *

The Horned King listened to Avalina read, lulled by her voice, until she coughed softly, and he realized she had gotten rather hoarse.

"That's enough for tonight," he told her. "Your voice is giving out."

"No, really?" She asked, before laughing.

He paused for a long moment, until he realized she had just tried to tease him.

Not knowing how to answer something like that, he rose gracefully from his seat, throwing his shadow over Avalina as she rose as well.

"Thank you for staying," she told him softly. "Even with Mitternacht, it gets kind of lonely around here."

The Horned King stared at her for a moment, his face shadowed.

"I know it does," he finally admitted, before adding, "And you're. . .welcome."

Avalina smiled kindly at him.

"It was no trouble."

As they parted ways in the hall, Avalina called softly after him.

"Goodnight, sir!"

The Horned King turned, and for the fleetest of moments, she thought she saw a tiny smile on his face.

"Goodnight. . .Avalina."

* * *

The Horned King paced slowly in his chambers, contemplating about the events of the night.

For the first time in centuries, the first time that he could ever remember, someone desired his company.

This was the most unusual thing that had happened to him in a very long time, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Nobody ever desired his company. In fact, they wanted to be as far away from him as humanly possible. And then some.

She had said she was lonely, and he knew that. He had known for a long while. This place was as empty and as silent as a tomb most of the time, except when the Invisibles made their crashing appearances, which was normally on a daily basis.

He knew that Avalina's horse, although he supposed the animal made good company, could not compare to the actual sound of a human voice, talking back to answer you. He knew.

The weight on his chest had disappeared for a long time, but now that he was alone, he began to feel it again.

Tonight, he had felt better than he could remember in a long time.

He was an undead, and he did not suppose he could feel true emotions, but he wondered faintly now if he could feel the thing humans called, "Happiness."

Avalina could talk about the strangest things. . .tonight it had been green flowers, of all things. Green flowers.

Green flowers, where in the world did this girl get her ideas?

The Horned King had never thought of a green flower before. He never thought about flowers in general, but he had a sneaking feeling he might be thinking of them more than never in the future.

_'A green flower is special because although it may blend in at first, it's something completely individual,'_ he remembered silently.

_'It takes a sharp eye to find one because they're so well hidden, but if you do see one, you'll know that you're seeing something truly unique. There's nothing else like them in the whole world! Take it out of its background and put it with a bunch of other flowers, and then it will stand out as much as they do. Just in a very different way.'_

The Horned King remembered what she said, and was mildly surprised to find how much truth there was in it. Who in the name of Orion would ever look for a green flower, of all things? The answer was simple.

No one.

And because of that, now he was wondering how many there might be in the world, and how many were overlooked every day. If it were possible to even find one.

And then she had compared them to brush farmers. How those two connected he could no longer remember, but the way she had worded it made perfect sense.

Avalina herself was a brush farmer, he remembered. She was a peasant in a country full of peasants, blending in with everything around her as easily as breathing. At first glance, she appeared to be nothing special. Just something as common and everyday as all the other peasants.

But then, she had been pulled from her home, her hiding place, and imprisoned here, in his castle. And suddenly, she didn't seem so common anymore. The more he learned about her the less common she became.

He did think she was rather. . .unusual, for a peasant. She was the first he had ever heard of that could read music, and it had been centuries since he had seen someone to have such a way with horses. Or animals in general, he thought, remembering the gwythaint.

Avalina wasn't really anything to look at at first glance, either. She looked as common as anything else. She was small, her hair was wild and of a brownish color and her eyes were green. Nothing out of the ordinary there.

But take a closer look, and he had noticed how her hair never seemed to lay the same way twice. And how it fell down her shoulders in a curling, waving mass that seemed to go whichever way the wind tossed it. How her eyes were so green, they would seem to glow, and that golden sun around the iris. . .she had a beautiful voice, although he would never have known at first glance, and despite her timid nature she could provide the finest conversation he had ever heard.

Avalina could ask the simplest things in such bizarre ways. She could also ask the most bizarre questions in such a simple manner, and explain things. . .she had a way of thinking that was so unusual, he sometimes felt she was running away with the conversation, with himself struggling to keep up.

In a nutshell, she reminded him of the green flower she had spoken of. Perfectly.

He was shaken from his contemplating thoughts when the Invisibles came in, this time not bothering to knock.

"Hey, Spiky, we got NEWS!"

Irritably, he turned towards the door.

"What?"

"You know we're bound to the courtyard and the castle, right? We can't go no further out."

"Get on with it," the Horned King growled, his temper quickly beginning to flare.

"Well, in the garden today, Avalina fell asleep, and. . ."

"What?" The Horned King hissed, his hands clenching. "And you didn't. . ."

"Let us finish, Buster-Brown. Sheesh."

"Well, anyway," another voice piped, (Or was it the same one?) She fell asleep, and Arawn tried to slip inside her head. . ."

"But he couldn't!" The other cackled. "Can you guess why? Huh-huh-huh?"

"Tell me!" The Horned King snarled.

"Mitternacht wouldn't let him!"

The Horned King looked completely nonplussed.

"Go on."

"Well, we couldn't do anything, being bound here and all, but the horse. . .boy, he sent Arawn running for his immortal soul!"

"He didn't even get a chance to try to hurt Avalina! Something about that horse's presence had him running scared!"

"Like Mister-Three-Pans-Weren't-Enough!"

The two of them dissolved into laughter.

The Horned King attempted to clarify.

"Arawn couldn't hurt Avalina because of the horse?"

"That's all we can guess," one answered.

"Yeah, nothing else made sense!" Said the other. (Or was it the same one?)

"He tried, but when instant he realized that horse was there with her, man, he was GONE!"

"Like a thief on wheels!"

The Horned King studied this unforeseen revelation. This could be quite useful.

"Are you completely sure?" He ground out, glaring at the air in front of him.

"We might be special, but we're not stupid!" One of them huffed indignantly.

"We know what happened."

The Horned King nodded.

"Then there is no need for you to remain with her in the stable, or anywhere, for that matter, except her chambers and the library. Do not follow her everywhere she goes, she does not appreciate it."

"Good, because we don't either. Nothing personal against her, you know, but there are awesome plans to be made, and doing that is sometimes difficult when we are already deeply occupied with chaperoning someone that doesn't need chaperoning."

"Anyhow, cheerio!"

They were nearly out the door before they turned back.

"Oh, the horrors! We almost forgot!"

"Oh yes, how awful of us!"

"Forgot what?" The Horned King growled, his temper almost completely gone.

"Hang on."

The door slammed, and the Horned King rubbed his temples slowly. What they were up to this time, only the gods knew. . .

On sudden impulse, he crossed the room and quickly locked the door, a wicked smirk working across his face.

_'Let's see them try to get in now.'_

He heard them coming a long time before they actually arrived, and he grinned even wider, anticipating their shock at finding the door barred.

Almost there. . .

The noise was getting louder. The Horned King readied himself. . .

The door was blown to smithereens as something the size of a rhino crashed through and exploded into the room.

The Horned King barely had time to move before the monstrosity rolled right over the top of him.

The Invisibles cackled madly as the thing groaned slowly to a stop, rolling right in front of the Horned King's throne.

"Have fun with that, Stanley!" They howled in laughter.

"Have fun!"

"What is this?!" the Horned King roared in fury, his eyes flashing blood red.

"Why, its our very own masterpiece of a catapult, crafted by our own Invisible hands! A mixture of fish scales, teakettles and deceased trolleys! Oh, and dead men's armor! Isn't it nice?"

"GET. It. Out." The Horned King snarled, poison in every syllable.

"NOW."

"We're sorry, but that's a no-can-do," they laughed.

"We only roll things *Up* the stairs!"

Cackling, they slammed the door as his roar of fury shook the room.

"CURSE YOU!"

* * *

******Everyone, please review! I'd really appreciate it! And don't forget, anyone that hasn't seen it, go check out the video tribute on Youtube that Faerydame made for this fanfic! It's awesome! Just type in Horned King X Avalina Save Me. Or if you just want to go the long, scenic route, just type in the Horned King and the video will be on page 8. How awesome is that? XD**

******Also, a small word of thanks that should be in a book**

******To one of my beautiful readers.**

******Some peeps are phonies or crooks**

******But BG24 isn't either!**

******She's awesome, she blossoms,**

******She should be from Gotham!**

******Her PM was as cool as a brook.**

******On my all of my haters she rained down epic vengeance (Metaphorically speaking)**

******Tremendous, Stupendous, She Needs An Apprentice! (And I am not kidding)**

******She sent me a message and all my fears were slain (Mary-Sues, they're the bane of good writers)**

**************When she wrote of my fanfiction and all it contains (But Ava's not one, so go choke on your typewriter, you hater)**

**************So thank you, BG, you're simply**************** fantastic! (My story will prevail and I cannot speak a lie!)**

**************And thank the dear Lord you don't type like a spastic! (cuz ths is rlly bd on ur i's.) LOL**


	90. Chapter 90

Chapter 90

Kadda-rump-kadda-rump-kadda-rump-kadda-rump!

The drumming thrummed against her very soul, kickstarting the fire deep inside her heart, lighting it. Coursing through her veins like silver lightning.

Who-ooo-ooo...

The wind whistled against her eardrums as her hair whipped out behind her. Her watering eyes narrowed against it, staring through the waves of heat, focusing on the prize over a mile away that seemed to shimmer in the sand.

She tapped her bootshod heels against those rippling sides, the stirrup leather making a light popping noise as she clucked once, leaning over his neck, her fingers braided into his waving mane, pulling slightly on the right rein in an unspoken signal. The rolling power underneath her went right as smoothly as an eagle would coast an updraft.

The metal pieces in the leather equipment clinked lightly against each other, adding their own effect.

Out of the corner of her eye, Avalina could see the gwythaint off to their left, slicing through the air like a knife.

"Go, boy, go!" Avalina cried in excitement, adrenaline flooding her system.

"Let's race!"

Mitternacht needed no urging. Powerful hindquarters kicked out again and again, fast as a striking cougar, propelling him forward like a streak of glossy black lightning, as his front legs struck out like flying arrows, seeming to swallow up the ground before him like the sea itself.

Avalina hugged him tightly through the leather with her legs, trying to move as little as possible.

The screeching call of the pumping gwythaint overhead was rivaled only by Mitternacht's challenging whistle that he trumpeted back in reply.

Avalina's stomach rose to her throat as her mount plunged down a fair-sized hill, whipping by a few gnarled dead trees. This dip would cost them precious time, but that couldn't be helped. She saw the gwythaint above her pull ahead.

Mitternacht saw this too, and she felt him give more for each stride. He knew exactly what was going on, and he was determined.

Avalina's stomach sank heavily back down inside her rib cage as Mitternacht hit the crest of the hill like a tidal wave, his ears swiveled forward, racing for his goal.

A shadow fell across them as Mitternacht drew up directly under the gwythaint.

For a long moment, they hung there, as if suspended in time, the horse blanketed in shadow, the gwythaint blocking the sun.

The horse's muzzle came into the sunlight, the rest quickly following, like a splash of black released from the night, and Avalina held him tight as he pulled ahead, his tail whipping behind him like a banner.

The yards of golden dust flashed by beneath them like a mystic dream, blurring into nothingness as Mitternacht snorted in excitement, his ears flicked back to listen to the cracking flaps of the gwythaint's wings.

They were going at a speed that defied all limits. A speed that nothing in the world could hope to ever match.

For they were one.

And they had wings of their own.

"Good boy, Mitternacht!" Avalina called softly in his ear, excitement in every syllable.

The horse snorted and gave her even more.

Three hundred yards to the drawbridge. . .two hundred. . .Avalina strained over his neck as far as she could, gripping his mane so tightly her knuckles were white.

Sweat streaked the horse's sides, mingling with the dust he kicked up.

"Come on, boy, almost there!"

The horse was galloping all out, not a single bit of energy or power reserved. His ears were laced back flat against his head, all but hidden in his tossing mane, his neck leaning out in front of him in a streamlined posture.

His breath came like a fiery bellows, but he was not going to quit.

Avalina cast a glance behind her, seeing the gwythaint's shadow coasting along the ground several feet behind them, its wings pumping heavily.

Mitternacht's hooves struck the wood of the drawbridge like Thor's Mjölnir, leaving pale impact marks all down the wood. Splinters flew from the weathered structure as he cleared the last few feet of ground in a massive leap, leaving the ground behind.

Clickety-clack!

Mitternacht knew it was over, and he heeded the gentle tension on his reins, slowing down as easily as his colossal speed would allow. Avalina did not tax him, letting him stop at his own pace, which he did, cantering over nearly half the courtyard before he could easily trot to a stop without sawing his hooves apart on the cobblestones.

Mitternacht also knew that he had won, and he held his head high.

"Good boy, Mitternacht!" Avalina cried happily, hugging him.

"Good boy!"

The horse snorted in triumph as his rider walked him over to the gwythaint, who was perched on the stone bench in the courtyard, its mouth open as it panted heavily. Mitternacht's sides heaved as he drew in another breath, stamping once and tossing his mane in a victory pose.

"Why so sour-looking, Creeper?" Avalina asked cheerfully, panting herself.

"That's the fastest time we've ever gone yet! Either of us!"

Sitting back in the saddle, she could still feel her heart thudding hard beneath her ribs, just as she could feel the horse's thudding behind his own, the vibrations traveling through her legs.

"You had a headstart," Creeper said grumpily.

"I did not!" Avalina gasped out indignantly.

"We started at the exact same time."

The goblin huffed irritably.

"Oh, don't be a sore loser, now," Avalina said.

"Please? It takes all the fun out of racing with you."

"The sun was in my eyes."

Avalina resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Alright, I believe you."

Avalina turned the horse back toward the drawbridge.

"I've got to cool him off, I'll be back."

Avalina gently asked Mitternacht for a trot, which he immediately obliged, clopping lightly over the drawbridge and back out into the dusty wasteland that surrounded the castle.

After a minute of trotting around, she asked him to walk, but he wasn't ready to quit. His blood was still aflame, and he wanted to gallop some more.

Prancing lightly sideways, having gotten a second wind, he pulled his head up and pricked his ears pointedly toward the green, rolling hills, and snorted in a very obvious manner.

He wanted to go there.

Following his gaze, Avalina felt her heart twist painfully, as it always did. It was so easy to imagine them racing through those hills again, she felt her eyes sting suddenly, but she choked it down before they could spill over.

"I'm sorry, boy," Avalina told him sadly, trying not to cry.

"We can't."

Mitternacht stamped a foot in frustration. He did not understand. His rider and he had loved to gallop through those hills together for years, so why didn't she want to now? They hadn't done it in months. She had been so happy a moment ago, and now she was sad. Why?

He gave a soft rumble in his chest and turned around to look at her.

"It's alright, Mitternacht, I'm fine. But I'm sorry that I can't take you up there. Maybe we can again, someday, but. . .not now."

Mitternacht gave a deep sigh and reluctantly slowed to a walk, his ears turned back to listen to her.

Avalina scratched his neck in a comforting manner.

"But we're together, and that's what counts."

Feeling a fog of depressing thoughts trying to ruin her beautiful day, she turned her back on that lavish countryside, almost hearing the wind calling her.

_'Avali__na, come!'_ It whispered.

_'Come home!'_

Apparently Mitternacht heard it too, for he tensed and chomped his bit, almost begging her to turn around.

Swallowing hard, she ignored it and walked back into her cobblestone prison, the voice mercifully falling silent as she did so. She hated doing this to Mitternacht, she hated these painful feelings and wished they would go away, but you could not just simply throw away the memories of the only life you had ever known and forget it.

The essence of her past would haunt her dreams tonight, she knew.

Sighing, she dismounted and dropped Mitternacht's reins to the ground by the stable door, near the bench where the gwythaint was still perched.

Over the weeks they had become more than simply accustomed to each other. They had become friends, and Avalina could swear they would actually speak to each other.

It the daylight permitted or if Creeper was in a good mood, she and the goblin would groom their mounts together in the courtyard and just talk. Creeper was still prickly, but conversation flowed easily between he and Avalina whenever they were near each other.

Most of the time.

"Oh, Creeper, I've been reading a lot, and I've finally decided on a name for the gwythaint," Avalina told him happily as she removed Mitternacht's saddle.

"Wanna hear?"

"Sure," the goblin grumbled.

"What do you think of Taranau Adeon?"

Creeper stopped wiping the dust off the gwythaint's neck.

"What now?"

Avalina repeated it.

"That would be great, but I would greatly appreciate a name I knew how to pronounce," Creeper said snidely.

"You can learn," Avalina said happily, "But I didn't pick it because it sounded nice. I mean, it does, but that's not the point. Do you know what it means?"

Creeper huffed.

"No, but something tells me you're going to tell me anyway."

"Taranau Adeon quite literally means, 'Thunder Wings.' And I thought it fitted her perfectly."

Creeper turned away, busying himself with wiping down the gwythaint's wings.

"It'll do, I guess. How'd you pick such a silly sounding name?"

"The first time I rode her, when she flung her wings out to coast over the courtyard, they cracked like thunder. And it may sound silly, but if she likes it, she needs to keep it."

"She won't tell the difference."

Avalina fought to keep her irritation down.

"Try it and see."

"You try. I'm not strangling myself over those words just to please you."

"Fine."

Avalina approached the gwythaint, letting her sniff her over.

"Hey girl, what do you think of your new name?" She asked softly, staring into the gwythaint's glowing eyes.

"Taranau Adeon."

The gwythaint cocked its head to the side, listening to the syllables.

Avalina repeated it again, the gwythaint ruffling her wings once before bobbing her head down in a quick motion, like a bird would do.

"Well, there you have it!" Avalina chuckled to Creeper, who looked like he'd just swallowed a lemon.

"Taranau Adeon it is! But if you want, you can give her a nickname, i'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Creeper rubbed his temples, fixing her with his good eye.

"Oh, it *will* be a nickname. I value my tongue too much to have it fall off from saying such weird words."

"Well, you're picking it out, I've done the hard part."

"I will do no such thing. She's lived without a name this long, she can live a little long-ah!"

The gwythaint had spread its wings out, throwing Creeper off the bench and sprawling in the courtyard, as it made a sound of indignation.

"I don't think you have much of a choice, Creeper," Avalina said, laughing.

"The lady has spoken!"

* * *

The Horned King had watched them, his brow ridges climbing steadily higher, as they had raced toward the castle, each of them determined to win.

They had done this for weeks. It was obvious all four of them loved a good race, and he had noticed they had only gotten swifter with the days.

He couldn't believe his eyes when the horse actually pulled ahead and won by several feet. He had stared at the massive dust cloud for some time, just frozen, waiting for it to clear.

He had thought for centuries that gwythaints and others in the dragon family were the swiftest creatures on the planet. Nothing could match their speed or their aggression, which is why he used them to carry out his orders.

And yet, he had just watched one suffer defeat from a beast of labor and the peasant girl who rode him.

He had known ever since he laid eyes on him that the horse was not quite your average equine. The animal had been able to keep pace with the gwythaint in the past, either tying or losing by sparse margins, but he had kept up, which the Horned King had previously thought impossible from any land creature.

That was new. A horse of his type shouldn't be that fast. They were bred for massive strength, endurance, and courage on the battlefield, but speed was not one of their strong points. The Horned King had to admit that he knew rather little of horses, and the black animal was not a heavy horse by any means, although he sported many of their characteristics. He supposed he would have to question Avalina about it.

Something else that was thoroughly intriguing was that the horse, (Mitternacht, was it?) after the first couple of days, had shown no more fear of the gwythaint, and the gwythaint had not tried to attack or savage him even once. In fact, the lich had observed from a distance that they seemed to enjoy the other's company.

A predator and the prey, standing together peacefully in the courtyard while their riders cared for them. That was something he had previously thought to be impossible.

He had seen Avalina and the horse pause, staring back toward their homeland, just standing there in the dust, watching, the breeze rippling the horse's tail and the girl's hair. He could hear nothing from his window, but no words were necessary for their body language to communicate the longing, the homesickness they both possessed.

The Horned King's chest twitched heavily as he watched them, before feeling the dull pressure increase ever so slightly as they turned and slowly walked back into the courtyard, their sadness more then obvious.

The Horned King wished she would not look like that. It made the stone that lay perpetually on his chest heavier than usual.

She wanted to go home, and for the briefest of moments, he realized he was actually considering letting her.

He banished the thought immediately.

_'I cannot release her,'_ he thought grimly, his hands clenching slowly.

_'The Horned King does not release prisoners. And without her, I would possess no hope at all. All of Prydain would know of my return, and I __would lose the tiniest chance that I have now.'_

The Horned King forced the thoughts from his mind.

_'She is my prisoner, and as such, she belongs to me. She cannot leave.'_

He gritted his fangs tightly, beginning to get angry with her.

_'She said so herself, she never had a chance to read so much or play music so often before. She loves to do both very much, and she says the garden is doing well. She enjoys talking to me, she admitted it. So why can't she be happy here? Why?'_

The lich cleared his mind of all thoughts pertaining to the topic before the tiny voice in his head could contradict themselves. He did not want to hear what it had to say relating to the matter.

* * *

**Somebody review! XD Pretty-please? :D**


	91. Chapter 91

Chapter 91

Avalina sat in her garden, watching in awe.

The past weeks had seemed to pass by so quickly. . .she and the Horned King talking for hours every night had became a regular thing, and he was teaching her so much, coupled with the library, sometimes she didn't think she would be able to contain it all. Creeper had finally started calling the gwythaint by a nickname he had grudgingly thought up with Avalina's help (Addie, which Avalina couldn't help but tease the goblin and point out that it meant, "Noble," which was marvelously appropriate) and Mitternacht was as fit and sound as he had ever been.

But that hadn't been the most amazing part. At least a month and a half ago, Avalina had started seeing insects in her garden. The first living things that had came onto the Horned King's lands of their own accord. There weren't many, but she had seen some ants and beetles of some sort or another, and a couple of ladybugs here and there. It wasn't much, but it was definitely something.

And only a couple of weeks ago, Avalina had simply been sitting there, when a little bird, no bigger than her thumb and the color of tree bark, had lit down in the grass and started digging for worms. She had stayed perfectly still as, after a while, that one little bird was followed by a few more.

Now, Avalina could count around a dozen different ones that came regularly, give or take, and she had seen the worms they pulled up. They had became used to her presence and would chirp at her, hopping close enough for her to reach out and touch, although she never tried.

The wind was cooler today than normal, and the sun seemed brighter, but it didn't feel quite as hot as it had a while back.

Avalina closed her eyes for a moment to breathe it in, before glancing unbidden over at Prydain's rolling hills.

They weren't quite as green as they had been a few weeks ago. They had taken on a rather bright tint, as summer began to recede and make way for the next season in line.

The massive, beautiful forests on all sides of her that had used to be completely green, speckled with beautiful flowers, were now innumerable shades of orange, red, and yellow, as if the sunset had been snatched from the sky and all its colors hurled to earth by an unseen hand. The bright green grass that had grown and spread for many yards around where Avalina had originally started her little garden was now turning a soft gold, fading ever so slowly into brown.

Mitternacht grazed contentedly, grabbing the shorter green sprouts that still came up between the taller, dead grasses like a picky child would only eat the things on their plate they liked.

Avalina felt her heart ache dully as she looked on, out past the lake, out toward the treeline in the distance. All she had to do was close her eyes, and for the briefest of moments, she was riding Mitternacht up through those hills to the ridge behind her house, out to her secret place, or riding back to the farm, helping Arran scythe hay or some other chore.

She could pretend she was home.

Mitternacht nuzzled her shoulder, loudly chomping a mouthful of grass, shaking her out of her depressing line of thought.

"Thanks for ruining the moment, boy," she told him, mildly annoyed, before the grass stems tickled her face and made her laugh.

"I love you too, Mitternacht," she told him, smiling.

"You're a portable piece of home, you know that?"

Mitternacht reached down to grab another massive mouthful, before bringing his head up again and trying to shove his nose into her arms.

"You big softie," she told him affectionately, scratching that one place behind his ears, "You always know how to make me feel better."

The horse groaned and stopped chewing for a moment, leaning into her touch.

"Mitternacht, it's all so strange," she told him, "So very strange. I don't know whether to hate how I'm thinking, or accept it."

Mitternacht began to crop the grass near her, listening.

"I've been following my own advice, you know," she explained, "I've been trying to only create my opinion of the Horned King on how he has treated me the past while. And now I don't know what to think and I'm thoroughly confused. My opinion of him now is so different from what I used to think, I'm not sure my past self would recognize me anymore. I'm sure other people would think I've gone mad."

She sighed.

"He's. . .different than how he used to be. He still frightens me, but when we talk. . .it's like I forget to be scared of him, at least for a while. It's like I'm talking to an average person instead of a bloodthirsty, undead warlord."

She leaned back on her hands, staring at the sky.

"I used to hate the Horned King for everything he's done, I think I still could if I think about it too long. Knowing his reputation, I'm actually not thinking as badly of him as I think I should. In a way I feel guilty because I know what he is, Mitternacht. I know what he's done, what he would have done if he had succeeded, and here I am, not hating him for it like I feel I should be. He's killed so many people. . ."

Avalina trembled, frightened at the memory, before continuing.

"But then again, if I try to hate him for it, I feel guilty all over again because he has treated me almost kindly this past while, and repaying him with anything other than gratitude would feel so wrong. I don't know what I'm really supposed to do. If he were anyone else, I might consider him a friend."

Mitternacht looked up at her temporarily, before sticking his muzzle back into the grass.

"He's so lonely, Mitternacht. So very lonely. And I keep sensing such a desperation around him, it's depressing. And his anger that he carries frightens me. His hate. And his weariness."

Avalina shivered.

"He's got so much of those. I find myself wishing constantly that I could make them go away. I wish I could chase them far away from him, far enough away that they would never come back. But it's like those emotions and he are one and the same, and he doesn't want to let go of them. I can hardly discern one from the other, and I can't do anything to get rid of them. But oh, how I wish I could!"

_*I'm not strong enough to stay away_

_Can't run from you_

_I'd just run back to you_

_Like a moth I'm drawn into your flame*_

Avalina drew her knees up to her chest as she kept talking.

"In a way, Mitternacht, I want to stay as far away from him as possible. He still frightens me. But I don't have anywhere to go, and I'm so lonely. It's nothing against you, but I do long to hear a human voice now and then. Even if it's not really a human talking. I find myself wanting to spend more time around him. Maybe it's because he's the only other living human-like creature around here. Other than Creeper, of course."

_*You say my name_

_But it's not the same*_

Avalina stiffened slightly at the memory.

"I can remember the first time he said my name. It terrified me to no end. But now when he says it, it's. . .different. Still scary, but it's like he's saying it to a person instead of a prisoner. You know what I mean?"

Mitternacht blew into the grass, watching her through his thick forelock.

_*You look in my eyes_

_And I freeze inside_

_And my soul surrenders_

_And you bring my heart to its knees*_

"Every time he looks at me I feel so small," she continued.

"And I can't help feeling just as sorry for him as I am afraid. Goodness, that sounds crazy."

_*And it's killing me when you're away_

_And I wanna leave and I wanna stay_

_So confused, so hard to choose_

_Between the pleasure and the pain*_

"But then, whenever I'm not around him, Mitternacht, I can't help but feel lonely, and I want to go back and talk to him some more. Is that stupid of me?"

Mitternacht regarded her calmly, sniffing her knees.

"I wish I could go home so badly," she told him, "But at the same time. . .a small part of me wants to stay here. Even at home, there wasn't anyone I could really talk to that would actually listen to me, and the Horned King does. I know he does, and he pays attention when I talk, and he's actually interested in what I have to say. My family sometimes doesn't listen. And I've never had a chance to read or play music so much, and I enjoy it a lot. A whole lot. And I've gotten to ride a gwythaint too! Not many people can say that they've even seen one, let alone rode one!"

_*And I know it's wrong and I know it's right_

_And even if I tried to win the fight_

_My heart would overrule my mind_

_And I'm not strong enough to stay away*_

"My head tells me that I'm feeling all the wrong things, but my heart's telling me I'm doing the right thing by trying to talk to him and such. But even if my head tried really hard to win, Mitternacht, I don't think it would get anywhere fast."

Avalina gave a soft smile as she remembered the wolf incident.

"My heart told me to take him back, and I hated the decision at the time, but now I'm almost glad about it."

The wind suddenly gave a sharp burst before calming, and Avalina shivered again, goosebumps rising on her arms, as she looked toward the west to see the sun slipping under the horizon, taking all its warmth with it.

Standing up, she rubbed her arms, realizing how chilled she felt, before picking up Mitternacht's lead rope and snapping it onto his halter, before swinging up herself.

"Come on boy, let's get back, it's getting chilly."

As they turned toward the castle, a flurry of orange and red leaves blew through the air, riding the breeze, and showered all around them like falling stars.

Mitternacht snorted into the wind, giving a small rear and pawing the air in excitement.

Avalina gripped him tight and laughed aloud, feeling her joy well up again.

Autumn was here.

* * *

"Get out."

The goblin fled from the room like his life depended on it, and the Horned King irritably drew a red X through village number two on his map.

_'Two down,'_ he thought, clenching his fist tightly, keeping his anger under control with an effort.

The goblin and the gwythaint (Which Avalina, true to her word, had finally named something but he hadn't cared to remember) had thoroughly scouted out two of the four village possibilities over the course of a couple of months, and had came up thoroughly empty handed on both. That left two more, and who knew how many brush farmers there were scattered all around out there.

The strong wind from the open window ruffled the map, and the Horned King set the ink bottle down on the corner to hold it in place, before walking to the window.

He had not noticed until now just how colorful the landscape had became, how bright, and he drew a deep breath of fresh air as he stared out.

Words could never describe just how pleasant it was to be able to smell again, taste again. . .he wondered why the abilities had suddenly decided to return to him. Nothing had brought it on that he could think of.

Even from this distance, he could already see gaps in the treetops where a few leaves were missing, and his eyes narrowed in frustrated anger.

Without the cover of the trees, sending the goblin out now would be nearly impossible. The Horned King could estimate he would have maybe a month left before he couldn't send him scouting at all. If it had just been the goblin, it would not be such a problem, but trying to hide a winged predator the size of a horse while ordering his servant to remain unseen, all without the cover of leaves and undergrowth, was contradictory to each other and only asking for trouble.

Having the goblin use the horse would have been a much better option, but the Horned King dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.

From what Avalina had told him, the horse and goblin hated each other with a burning passion, and that had been putting it mildly. The animal would tolerate the Creeper while Avalina was around, but he had never dared to come close to the animal and Avalina hadn't tried to ease the horse's distrust of the goblin.

When the Horned King had asked why, she said the horse was waiting on the goblin to apologize and she had no right to interfere until he did so. If she did, that would only make things worse between the two of them. The Horned King had silently agreed.

Of course, the Horned King could always force the goblin to ride the horse, but he had a feeling there wouldn't be enough of Creeper to go back for another round. He was the only servant-scout he had at this point, and losing him would be a hard blow in the lich's search for the pig-keeper. And he did not think Avalina would approve at all.

Avalina. Her name alone could ease some of the monotony away from his mind.

She had taken to reading to him at night after supper in the library, and he thoroughly enjoyed listening to her. Her reading out loud had vastly improved over the course of the weeks, and now she could rattle off the words with less slip ups in the story.

The Horned King enjoyed those sessions. He found that spending time with her at all was rather pleasant. The massive stone on his chest seemed to leave whenever he was in her presence, and her aura would flow around and over him, brimming with Life. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before.

And it felt rather enjoyable.

He had noticed that her fear of him had dwindled to an all-time low, which pleased him more than he would have thought possible. Instead of feeling irritated or angry about it, he realized his actions the past couple of months or so had actually been encouraging this. And he had made no move to turn it around.

He knew he could. It would be so easy. . .

The Cauldron whispered at him mockingly, and he shoved it away as best he could.

_*Each day I'm Hell_

_Everyone can tell_

_By the look on my face*_

The Cauldron tormented him constantly. It had increased rather than dissipated, the more time he spent with the girl, and his only peace from them was when he was in Avalina's presence. They would leave for a little while, but the instant he departed from her the whispers and the flashbacks would settle down over his shoulders like a thick, suffocating blanket.

Which would only serve to sink him lower into the desperation he felt he was drowning in, among other things. They gave him no peace.

Not that he deserved any.

_*Not one day goes by_

_That I don't wonder why_

_Don't believe it's Fate*_

The massive improbability of his task settled even more into his mind every moment he was away from her, and he was reminded of just what he had to do to save himself. But then he realized that in truth, she held his Fate in her hands, although she did not realize it.

_*I'm not strong enough to stay away_

_What can I do?_

_I would die without you*_

The Horned King knew that if he could not get her to love him before his time was up, his soul was as good as dead.

_*In your presence my heart knows no shame_

_I'm not to blame_

_Cause you bring my heart to its knees*_

She was so easy to talk to. . .so easy, in fact, that often he forgot who he was, and would talk with her as readily as any other might. He refused to hold himself accountable for his near-constant lapses into that state. Her aura, her presence was so strong, he felt unworthy of her presence everytime she was near.

_*And it's killing me when you're away_

_And I wanna leave and I wanna stay_

_So confused, so hard to choose,_

_Between the pleasure and the pain_

_I'm not strong enough to stay away*_

But she was the only thing that brought him enjoyment anymore. He had nothing to do nearly all of the time and was profoundly bored whenever he was away from her. Then he would become angry at himself for actually wanting to be in her presence. Because since when did the Horned King get lonely? Since when did he yearn for companionship of any kind, let alone a human? Conflicted though he may be, it still didn't stop him from staying around Avalina whenever she was inside the castle and wanted to talk to him.

_*I can't escape_

_Only your love can save me*_

The Horned King realized that Avalina had completely cornered him, without either of them realizing it.

_*You're the only one that matters and the only one for me_

_Now I'm lonelier than ever_

_Only your love can save me*_

And to his surprise, he realized that maybe he might have wanted company like this for quite some time. He could not remember the last time he had an actual conversation with someone.

_*I've wanted this forever_

_But I want you all for me_

_You can put me back together_

_Only your love can save me*_

It had been several weeks since he had seen Avalina looking back toward Prydain, and he could not help the anger that crept up inside him at the memory. He did not understand. She was plainly happy here, so why did she want to go back?

He had done a very good job of keeping the little voice at bay on the matter and he planned to continue to do so.

He did not know when the little voice had returned to him. He had not heard it in centuries, but it had returned to him and was almost as annoying as the Invisibles.

Almost.

He had been informed this morning by the servants he had eleven moons remaining. Not exactly a pleasant thought.

_*You're the only one that matters_

_And the only one for me_

_You can put me back together_

_Only your love can save me.*_

* * *

**Gosh, this chapter was hard to write XD. I have no idea why LOL. Anyway, the songs I used are Save Me by My Darkest Days and Not Strong Enough by Apocalyptia. I thought they went well with how the characters were feeling right now XD**

**Please review!**


	92. Chapter 92

Chapter 92

Avalina was combing through the titles on a library shelf, wondering what to read next. There were so many options. . .so many, many options. . .a book with rather strange symbols on its spine drew her attention, and with a mild effort, she pulled it out.

Grunting slightly at its mildly heavy weight in her hands, she sat down at the couch and carefully flipped it open, only to see nothing that looked even the slightest bit readable.

The entire page looked like all manner of tallymarks. They filled the page, and none of them were even correct. They were either more or less than five, or they were sideways or crossways. . .it didn't make any sense.

So engrossed in puzzling over it, she didn't realize the Horned King had entered the room until his shadow fell over her.

She looked up, startled for a moment, before she smiled as genuinely at him as she might a friend.

"Hello," she told him cheerfully.

He nodded in response.

He must have seen the puzzled fog in her eyes, for he asked, "What is it?"

Looking at the book in her hand, he asked, "What are you reading?"

She laughed.

"I don't know. I can't read chicken scratchings."

Carefully, she slid the book over to his side of the table, and she watched, almost mesmerized, as his fingers slowly gripped the edge of the book and picked it up.

He was silent for a moment, studying it, before he answered.

"It is actually a foreign language, one of the first books written in it, to be precise. Although your description of chicken scratchings is more or less. . .correct."

Avalina laughed.

"Well, what does it say?"

The Horned King closed the book to see.

"It's a story about an emperor. And a small. . .bird."

"You can understand it?"

He nodded.

After a pause, Avalina asked timidly, "Could you read it to me?"

The Horned King look up at her, a brow ridge twitching faintly in surprise.

"Why?"

"I want to know what it says. And I can't understand it."

"No."

"Why?"

"I do not read aloud."

"I read to you, the least you could do is return the favor."

She could feel him wavering.

"Please?" She asked softly, watching.

For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse, but at last he gracefully sat in the chair behind him and opened the book.

"Once upon a time," he began, before looking over at her.

"This is pointless."

"No! It's not!" Avalina said excitedly, leaning on the couch arm.

"Keep going!"

The Horned King sighed, looking at her.

"Very well."

Looking down at the strange symbols, he continued in his dredging, echoing voice.

"Once upon a time, in a far away country, there was an emperor. He was much feared, for he was a harsh ruler. . .

* * *

As with any emperor, he prized beautiful things, and held them on display at all times, but the thing he valued most was his garden, and he took all pains to make as the loveliest in the land. And it was. It extended so far out that not even the gardener knew where it ended.

Travelers that came to the country would praise and marvel at the emperor's fine palace and his gardens, but always they spoke of the nightingale, who lived in a tree in the Emperor's garden.

The commoners, on their ways about their duties, would always hear the bird singing, and it never failed to bring tears to the eyes of anyone who heard it.

One day, word reached the emperor of this bird, that sang far more beautifully than anything that had ever been heard before, that the whole world knew, and he did not.

When he heard this, the emperor became angry that he had never heard of such a thing before this and demanded one of his lords-in-waiting go out to find the bird that very day.

"If the bird has not been brought to me by sunset, you will lose your head!" The emperor told him.

The nobleman trembled in fear and did not dare disobey.

And so he searched and searched all day, asking all he met if they knew of the nightingale. The people he asked, however, had lived in the Emperor's court all of their lives, and did not know such a thing.

As sunset grew near, he was beyond desperate, and sitting down on a stone by the road, he looked so forlorn that a kitchen girl in passing kindly asked what ailed him so.

"Alas," he cried, "The emperor has ordered me to bring the nightingale to him at once, or at sunset I shall lose my head! And I cannot find the creature anywhere!"

"I know the nightingale," the girl said kindly, hoping to quell his terror. "She sings to me every day in passing, when I take the scraps of the court tables to my mother who lives by the sea."

In an instant the nobleman was on his feet.

"Pray, little maiden, take me to this nightingale at once, for I do not want to lose my head! I will see to it you are given full employment in the kitchen, so that you and your mother need not starve!"

And so the maiden led him through the wood, in so many twists and turns he would have lost his way in an instant had she not been there.

Upon reaching the base of a massive tree, she said to the nobleman, "We shall hear her now."

And presently the nightingale began to sing, perched on a limb well above their heads.

"Little nightingale," the maiden called when the bird had finished, "Our most gracious emperor wishes you to sing before him."

"My excellent little nightingale," said the nobleman, "I have the great pleasure of inviting you to a court festival this evening, where you will gain imperial favor by your charming song."

"My song sounds best in the wild green wood," said the nightingale, but she still came willingly when she heard the emperor's wish.

The palace was elegantly decorated for the occasion, and in the center of the most beautiful hall, an elaborate golden perch had been erected by the emperor's throne for her to sit on.

All were in their finest garments, and every eye was turned toward the little brown bird sitting on the perch, as the emperor nodded at her to begin.

"What a plain little thing," a few murmured to one another.

"So drab colored! How can such an inelegant creature sing as beautifully as the commoners say?"

"Tis as plain and common as rice, I say."

The nightingale's song filled the hall like the tinkling of tiny glass bells, and she sang so sweetly that tears came to the emperor's eyes and rolled down his face.

Her song filled the heart of all who heard it, and when she was finished they were all left hoping that the emperor would order her to sing again.

The emperor was so delighted and so moved by the plain little bird's song that he declared she would have his golden slipper placed round her neck (Which is the highest honor in the emperor's courts) but the bird declined the honor with thanks, saying that she had been sufficiently rewarded already.

"I have seen tears in the emperor's eyes," she said. "And that is my richest reward, and more than enough honor for me."

And as such, everyone came to admire the drab little bird for her sweet, enchanting song, and the ladies of the court began to take water in their mouths to make them utter a soft gurgling noise, so that they could fancy themselves nightingales whenever they spoke to anyone. The bird's visit was most successful, and now she was to remain at court.

She was given her own cage, with liberty to go out twice a day, and once during the night. A dozen servants were appointed to attend her on these occasions, holding a silken string fastened to her leg.

There was certainly not much pleasure in this kind of flying, but the little bird never voiced complaint.

As the months went by and she entertained the emperor with song, his heart began to soften, and he realized some of his orders and rules in the past may have been outlandishly harsh. And so he changed them, gradually becoming a more just and noble ruler than he or any of his forefathers ever had before. He did not seem to notice the change, but the people did, and slowly they began to replace their terror of him with pride whenever they spoke of him amongst themselves.

The nightingale was his pride and joy, and a ruler from another country traveled to his palace to pay homage to the emperor and to hear the nightingale sing, having heard of her beautiful voice.

Some months after the visit, a package arrived from the foreign ruler, and when it was opened, the emperor was delighted to see that it was an artificial nightingale made to look like a living one, made of gold, and covered all over with rubies, diamonds and sapphires. When the golden bird was wound, it could sing like the real one, and move it's tail up and down, which sparkled with inlaid silver.

"Now they must sing together," said the court.

"What a duet it will be!"

But they did not get on well, for the real nightingale sang in its natural way, and the artificial one sang only waltzes.

"This is not a fault," said the music master, "It is quite to my taste."

So then it sang alone, and was as successful as the real bird; besides, it was so much prettier to look at, for it sparkled like bracelets and breast-pins.

Time and time again could it sing the same song without getting tired, and everyone was infatuated with the golden bird.

"'Tis better than the real nightingale," they told each other, "Both in appearance and in song."

No one had noticed when the little brown bird had fled, heartbroken, back to her own green woods, but finally, one day, the emperor noticed her absence and was furious.

"What an ungrateful creature," he fumed.

And so the bird was banished from the empire, forbidden to ever return to the palace, but nobody seemed to care, and continued to listen to the golden bird as happily as they had listened to the real one at first.

A year passed, and the emperor, the court, and all the commoners knew every little turn in the artificial bird's song, every little note, for it always sang the same exact thing, with no twists or originality, and this pleased them all the better.

One evening, when the bird was singing at it's best, there came an awful choke and grind from the inside, and the sound of a spring cracking.

Whirr-r-r-rrr...and the music stopped.

The emperor immediately called for all of the watchmakers and jewelers in the kingdom to fix his precious bird.

After a great deal of delicate work, talking and examination, the bird was carefully put more or less to order, but the watchmakers and jewelers all agreed that from now on it could only be played once a year, as the barrels had been worn out from so much playing, and attempting to replace them would destroy the bird entirely.

The kingdom was shocked, but a greater sorrow awaited them.

Some years later, a heavy mourning fell on the land when the emperor became so ill he was not expected to live.

All of the kingdom now mourned, where years ago they would have silently rejoiced. For he was a kind and just ruler now, and all the people loved him.

Already a new emperor had been chosen, and everyone slipped away to pay homage to his successor, leaving him alone.

Cold and pale he lay on his royal, elegant bed, with the golden tassels and long velvet curtains, alone as could be. But he was not yet dead.

A window was open, and the full moonlight shone in upon the emperor and the artificial bird which sat beside him on the table.

The poor emperor, finding he could scarcely breathe with a strange weight on his chest, forced his eyes open to see Death in the room with him, standing by the bed, that jagged black sword resting heavily upon him, waiting.

All around the bed, and peeping through the curtains, were a number of strange heads and faces, some old, ugly and wicked looking, other, newer ones rather lovely and gentle. The emperor noticed there seemed to be a great deal more wicked heads than kind ones.

For they were the emperor's good deeds and bad deeds from all of his life, coming back to stare him in the face in his final hour, causing him reflect on his life.

The wicked faces, though certainly more plentiful, seemed older and faded, while the kind ones looked youthful, newer and full of life, and he realized these were the past several years of his good reign he had done.

"Do you remember this? Or do you remember that?" The wicked ones taunted, bringing recollections of things that made the perspiration appear on the emperor's brow.

"I think nothing about it," the emperor croaked in vain, although he realized in his terror that he remembered each and every one of those horrible, horrible deeds he had committed.

"Music, Music!" He cried weakly.

"Bring the large drum and the stringed instruments, that I might not hear what they say!"

But there was no one there, and they still went on, and Death stared silently at the emperor, his aura as black and suffocating as smoke, waiting patiently. Waiting. . .

The emperor turned his head to the side and saw the mechanical bird sitting on his bedtable.

"If only I had the strength to wind that bird, the music would drive you from me," he rasped. "But I haven't, and there is no one here to wind it for me."

Death continued to stare at the emperor with his cold, hollow eyes, eyeing him like a predator. So eagerly. . .but he was patient, and did not twitch in the faintest. All he had to do was wait.

The room was eerily silent. The only sound was the struggling breaths of the emperor, which grew softer as the sword on his chest grew heavier still.

Suddenly, piercing the smothering blanket, there came through the window the sound of soft, sweet music.

Outside, on a tree bough by the window, silhouetted by the moon, sat the live nightingale. She had heard of the emperor's illness, and had came to sing to him, so forgive him for the wrong he had done her, and of hope, and love and trust.

As she sung, the shadows of the room lightened, the voices of the faces were slowly dimmed, one by one, the emperor's stilling blood began to flow more rapidly, giving life to his weak limbs.

And even Death himself listened in the silence, and said in his heart, "Sing on, little nightingale. Sing on."

And the bird sang of mountains, of rivers, of flowers and butterflies. She sang of the wind in the trees and the fish in the sea, of the quiet little churchyard, where the white roses grow, and the emperor began to strengthen in his bed.

She sang of the fresh sweet grass underfoot on a spring day, of the cool brook in the summer and gardens that were filled with Life.

And so Death gave up the emperor's soul for a song, and, thinking that he would see these gardens, dissipated out of the window in a cold white mist, taking his jagged sword with him.

The emperor, no longer gasping for his life, spoke tearfully to the nightingale.

"My heavenly little bird, you returned! I banished you from my kingdom once and treated you most thoughtlessly. And yet, you charmed the evil faces from my bed, and Death himself from my heart, with your sweet, sweet song. How can I ever reward you?"

"You have already rewarded me," the nightingale answered.

"I shall never forget that I draw tears from your eyes everytime I sing. These are the jewels that rejoice a singer's heart. But sleep now, and well again. I will sing to you."

As she sang, the emperor fell into a deep, deep slumber, and oh, how sweet and restoring it was! When he awoke, all illness and fragility was gone, his strength and health renewed.

The sun shone brightly through his window, but not one of his servants were about, for they thought him dead. Only the nightingale sat beside him, and sang.

"You must always remain here with me," said the emperor. "You shall sing only when it pleases you, and I will break the golden bird into a thousand pieces."

"No, do not do that," replied the nightingale, "The bird did very well for as long as it could, keep it here still. I cannot live cheerfully in a cage, no matter how gilded, but let me come when I like. I will sit on the bough outside your window in the evenings and sing to you, so that you may be happy, and have thoughts full of joy. I will sing to you of those who are happy, of those who suffer, the good and the evil of this world, from far and wide. I love your heart better than your crown and all your riches."

So saying, the nightingale flew away out of the window.

The servants now came in to look after the dead emperor, when lo! He stood there, to their astonishment, and said, "Good Morning."

* * *

Both the lich and the girl were silent as the story ended, the only sound being the snapping of the fire.

For a long moment, the Horned King simply stared at the final page, which at the bottom was marked, "The End," and felt vaguely. . .wistful.

"She was such a true friend," Avalina said softly, breaking the lull and causing the Horned King to look up at her, broken from his thoughts.

"The bird?"

Avalina nodded.

The Horned King only rattled faintly in his throat, but did not reply.

"Hm."

"You read very well," she told him shyly, "And it was a beautiful story. Thank you for reading to me."

The Horned King nodded and gracefully rose from his chair, his shadow coming over her as he lightly set the book on the table.

"You are. . .welcome."

Avalina rose herself, her legs stiff from sitting so long, and followed him.

"Was it as pointless as you thought at first?"

He turned to face her, and for a moment, she thought she saw the faintest of smiles on his face.

"Not quite."

"Well good, because I've got to have you read it again sometime!"

Talking, they walked out of the library together, and their talking slowly faded into silence.

* * *

**Aw, the Horned King's reading to Avalina! I could hug him! LOL The story he read to her is a Chinese fairy tale called The Emperor and the Nightingale, is case someone may not know. It's one of my favorite fairy tales ever XD I mean literally, EVER. I love this story to pieces XD.**


	93. Chapter 93

Chapter 93

The Horned King did not know what had possessed him to read to her. He just had. It was a story he had never heard of before, but he had found himself wondering as he read what would happen next, and to his surprise he found he was actually enjoying the story himself as he translated the language into English. Avalina's excitement grew with each page, and he felt himself catching onto it as well.

He had not expected the emperor to forget about the nightingale. Or for him to change his ways, all because of a bird. Or for the nightingale to return and save her thoughtless captor from Death itself. And yet, she had, although he had kept her prisoner.

_'Death himself listened, and said in his heart, 'Sing on, little one. Sing on,'_ the Horned King remembered silently.

_'He wanted to keep listening, even though it would cost him a soul. A prize that he craved. He knew what would happen if the bird continued to sing, and yet, he wanted her to. And then he let the nightingale win, and went to see all of the Life outside for himself.'_

The Horned King drummed his fingers silently on his window sill in thought.

_'I wonder what he thought of it all.'_

The Horned King considered reading such fiction and fairy tales completely pointless. But now he wondered if any of the others had such a meaning to them.

_'The nightingale loved the emperor,'_ he mused silently.

_'Even after he had captured her, forgotten her, replaced her and then banished her from his kingdom, and yet she still returned to save him. It makes no sense. Except that she loved him.'_

He gritted his fangs at thinking the wretched word.

_'She was, as Avalina put it, a true friend. A true friend indeed.'_

For a moment, he stood there, a tiny smirk crossing his features.

_'Chicken scratchings. . .'_

A soft, dark chuckle was the only sound to be heard in the silence.

* * *

The Horned King, at Avalina's request, stood reluctantly in the stable, watching her groom her horse.

They had done this for weeks. She had asked him to come to the stable more frequently of late, and he had come, always staying his distance from the animal.

Mitternacht had been wary and distrustful at first, but when the lich never offered to approach him he began to relax and almost reach the point of ignoring him.

Almost. Mitternacht always kept either an eye or an ear trained on the lich, and Avalina had tried to reassure the Horned King that Mitternacht did this to everyone, but the lich had privately remained unconvinced. He could not believe he had let her talk him into this.

They had started in the courtyard, the Horned King keeping his distance, and when the horse had shown no fear, they had tried it in the stable too. So far nothing had happened, but he was wary of drawing any closer to the animal than necessary.

Avalina cheerfully ran her brush over the sleek black haunches, murmuring something the Horned King could barely hear at his distance. He had no idea what she was saying, but apparently the horse did, if his ears and body movements were any indication.

Coming back around to the front, Avalina looked over at the Horned King and smiled.

"You can come closer, you know. He won't mind."

"I prefer it here," the Horned King stated, several stalls down on the opposite side of the hall.

"Why? You can't see that well down there."

The Horned King made no attempt to argue. He would not mind going closer, but unlike in the courtyard, Mitternacht was in an enclosed area, and coming to close could trigger a panic frenzy, and he did not want that.

He looked up slightly when he realized the horse was fixing him with a rather stern expression, his ears swiveled in his direction.

Avalina murmured something to the horse, who flicked his ears back to her and whickered softly, eyes never leaving the lich.

Avalina laughed softly.

"What is it?" The Horned King asked, projecting his voice a little harder in order to be heard from this distance.

Avalina smiled over at him, the horse's ears swiveling forward again.

"He wants to know why you're standing all the way over there by yourself."

The Horned King stared at her, wondering if she was making it up, as the horse nodded his head once, his mane bouncing slightly with the movement.

"He also said to come over. He wants to see you."

The Horned King faintly cocked a brow ridge at this, wondering how to answer as Avalina came out of the stall and walked down to him, getting an apple chunk from the feedroom and sliding it into her pocket.

"Please? You don't have to be afraid."

The Horned King bristled slightly at this.

"I fear nothing."

Avalina furrowed her brows, tilting her head slightly to the side.

"How can you not fear anything? Everyone's afraid of something."

"I know no such thing."

"Oh. Well, can you come over anyway?" She asked hopefully.

"We are in an enclosed area. . ." he began.

"He's not afraid."

The Horned King looked at the horse, who was regarding him steadily, without a single trace of fear.

"He isn't now, but if I get closer he may be."

"No he won't," Avalina countered.

"He's been a whole lot closer to you before this and wasn't scared."

The Horned King looked down at the girl by him, who was staring back with a pleading expression.

"Can you come over? Please?"

The Horned King glanced back over at the horse, before returning his gaze to Avalina, a faint sigh emanating.

"As you wish."

Avalina's eyes lit up at this, and she practically danced back over to the stall, the Horned King following at a more sedate pace.

About ten feet or so from the stall, the Horned King stopped, looking at the horse, who dipped his head briefly and shifted inside the stall.

Avalina's eyes widened as she realized what Mitternacht was doing.

"Come on," she encouraged the lich, "You can pet him."

The Horned King reluctantly came closer, the horse eyeing him through that thick forelock.

The lich stared back, and for the second time, felt almost intimidated. That horse stared at him like he was looking right through him, seeing his very thoughts, and the Horned King felt that same disarming feeling he had felt when the horse had looked at him that first day in the courtyard.

As he drew nearer, Avalina suddenly noticed something so surprising she nearly started.

She had became so accustomed to being able to feel the edge of the Horned King's aura to tell her when to stop, that she had not bothered to count the feet between them for quite some time.

It was now that she noticed that the Horned King's aura had shrank, and was now around the seven foot mark, and she had not noticed until now.

She had probably been going inside the ten foot mark for quite some time and never bothered to notice, simply because it wasn't there anymore.

_'It must have shrunk,'_ she mused. _'But how? How could it happen?'_

Thinking back, she remembered she had definitely been getting closer to the lich than usual, especially the first day the Horned King had read to her. How long ago had that been?

Trying to remember, she watched Mitternacht flare his nostrils right outside the Horned King's aura as it brushed against him, blowing excitedly, watching the lich with an almost fierce intensity.

The Horned King stood there in front of the stall, unmoving, until at Avalina urging he slowly extended his hand to the horse, palm down, coming forward carefully, watching for any negative response from the animal.

Mitternacht snorted hard and cautiously sniffed him, his breath hitting the Horned King's skin and seeming to warm the very bones underneath.

"That's it, boy," Avalina said softly, trying to ignore the Horned King's deathly aura as it slowly came over her, filling her lungs with every breath no matter how hard she tried to prevent it. She silently tried to breathe, determined to hide her discomfort as long as possible. She was on the verge of something great, she could just feel it.

Mitternacht fixed the Horned King with a very stern look, sniffing over the lich as carefully as he wished.

After several minutes, Avalina murmured, "You can pet him now."

The Horned King slowly laid a hand on the horse's neck, feeling the shudder that went through the animal at the action. Mitternacht fixed him with a softer look, staring back right into the lich's face, studying him.

The Horned King had not laid a hand on an animal of any type for centuries, and truth be told, he had forgotten how it felt. If he had ever known in the first place, that is. And touching a horse was something almost. . .unworldly.

The Horned King slowly rubbed the animal's neck, feeling the warmth and power the creature held. It was like touching hot thunder itself, capable of such raw, unmanageable power, and yet such gentle docility.

The horse breathed softly in his face, fixing the lich with those deep regal eyes that held more wisdom than any man.

The Horned King looked back, feeling that same sensation of humble disarmament he had felt that first day in the courtyard. It was almost frightening, this feeling.

The muscles under the horse's skin flexed, and the Horned King's eyes widened at feeling it, looking down.

That sleek black coat shifted under his hand, and the lich slowly ran a hand over the horse's shoulder with a look on his face that Avalina could only describe as something akin to wonder.

Mitternacht turned his head around, watching the Horned King warily with an eye faintly rimmed in white, but did nothing more.

Avalina watched in joy as the Horned King slowly ran his fingers through that wavy, lacquer-black mane that fell down to past the horse's thick chest, running his hands over Mitternacht's neck and shoulder like he was touching something completely invaluable.

_'Somehow, he must like horses,'_ Avalina thought quietly to herself.

_'Mitternacht would never accept him that easily if he disliked them.'_

Mitternacht switched his tail and then turned his attention to Avalina, ignoring the Horned King for the time being.

Avalina chuckled softly, fighting to keep her gasps under control as she fished the apple chunk out of her pocket and gave it to Mitternacht, who crunched it happily. She fumbled weakly with the latch on the stall door, trying to open it.

The Horned King looked up as she bolted it behind her and stepped away, gasping out loud now as the fresh stable air entered her lungs.

His brows furrowed as he came back to himself, looking at her.

"Are you alright?"

Gasping, Avalina nodded.

The Horned King fixed her with a glare.

"Do not linger in my presence if it becomes difficult for you."

"Yes sir," Avalina gasped, feeling that prickle of fear run up her spine at the look.

Mittenracht sniffed her anxiously over the door.

"I'm alright, boy," she answered softly, before snagging the bristles of the curry brush in his mane. When Mitternacht turned back to the Horned King, he worked the brush loose and fixed Avalina with a questioning look.

"Brush him, he likes it."

Carefully, the Horned King did as she said, slowly running the brush over the horse's coat.

Mitternacht flicked one ear back to pay attention to him, the other one pricked forward to watch Avalina sitting on a bucket outside the stall, catching her breath.

"I'll be in there in a second, boy," she murmured, her lungs finally starting to work properly.

After she had more or less recovered, the Horned King exited the stall, laying the brush on top of the door.

"Are you certain you have recovered?" He rumbled to her.

Avalina nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want to brush him some more?" She asked.

"He wants you," the Horned King answered, "And for that to happen I must vacate the stall."

He glared at her harder.

"Do not ever do that again."

Avalina trembled slightly and nodded.

"Yes sir."

* * *

"What?" Creeper asked in shock, his eyes huge.

"Yes!" Avalina said joyfully.

"Isn't it wonderful!"

The Horned King had already left the library that night, and Creeper had come in, and Avalina was currently recalling to him the events of the day.

Creeper stared at her in shock, sitting in his chair.

"You mean. . .Master was actually. . .touching a horse?"

"Not just touching!" Avalina laughed happily.

"He was brushing him!"

". . .What have those Invisibles done to Master?" He cried.

"They've poisoned him somehow!"

Suddenly remembering something, he looked over at Avalina.

"And the horse didn't do anything?"

Avalina shook her head.

"Nope! And the Horned King loved it! He couldn't believe it!"

". . .I can't either."

"Well, you better, cause it just happened!" Avalina laughed.

"But I know the feeling. I can hardly believe it myself!"

* * *

**I got another follower! WHOO-HOOO! My week is complete! *parties***


	94. Chapter 94

Chapter 94

"Anything you would like to hear in particular?" Avalina asked, her eyes bright as she watched the Horned King standing by the window on the other side of the room.

The Horned King was silent for a while, thinking. Avalina did not say anything, merely pulling one of her sleeves down a little more to cover her wrist. The weather had been getting cooler, without being cold. She loved Autumn, but she had never really enjoyed long sleeves.

The rattle of breath made her look up expectantly.

"Do you recall the one about the curse?"

"Yes sir."

"Play it."

Smiling, Avalina turned back to the piano and began.

A few minutes later, when the last note had dissipated into silence, she turned around on the bench again to see him looking out the window. She had felt him take his gaze off her halfway through the song.

Avalina felt that familiar ache in her heart as she watched him. She could feel his heaviness, but as to what was causing it, she had didn't have a clue.

She opened her mouth to say something, but he beat her to it.

"How do you do it?"

Confused, Avalina furrowed her brow.

"Sir?"

"How do you make that music?"

Avalina struggled to answer.

"Well, um. . ."

The Horned King turned from the window to set his gaze on her.

"How do you know which keys to press?"

"Oh!" Avalina said as it dawned on her.

Getting up, she took the music book that was currently lying open on the piano and crossed the room to him.

She set the book on his chair and backed up, out of reach of his aura as he came over and flipped it open.

"Those tell me which keys to use," she explained, pointing to the various little sticks and black circles that danced across the lines on the page. "The top line is for the left hand, the bottom is for the right. I read those."

The Horned King stared at them for a moment before looking up.

"I have learned many languages, yet this eludes me. How do you read them?"

Avalina smiled sheepishly.

"Well, music has an alphabet like any other language. Only, it has letters A through G, sharps, flats, and octaves. Reading it is actually the hardest part, at least for me. Playing by ear is easier, if you have that ability."

The Horned King looked slightly blank, and Avalina couldn't help laughing softly.

"Nothing I said made any sense, did it?"

". . .Yes and no."

"I'm sorry."

"Do not be."

The Horned King laid the book back on the chair and moved away so she could retrieve it. As she did so, he returned to the window.

"How long did it take you to learn?" He dredged out, turning back to her.

"I can't remember," she said, disappointed she couldn't give him a definitive answer.

"I had so much fun doing it, it doesn't seem like long at all. Isn't it odd how time seems to fly sometimes, and then just stop at others? It's like it can't make up its mind."

The Horned King nodded.

"Indeed."

Glancing back at the piano, he continued, "How can you read the music when all of the keys look the same?"

Avalina shrugged slightly.

"I don't know, sir. After a while, I could just. . .tell."

As he turned back to the window, she asked softly, "Would you like to learn to create music?"

The Horned King slowly shook his head.

"No."

After a pause, Avalina timidly asked, "Why not? I mean, you seem to really enjoy listening to it, so wouldn't you like to make music too?"

The Horned King lowered his head.

"I can only enjoy it from a distance, child. I cannot create things of beauty because I have no heart to do so with."

Avalina frowned, trying to understand this.

"Have you ever tried?"

The Horned King shook his head.

"No."

"Then how do you know?"

"I simply do. I cannot explain it. A monster like myself cannot create such beautiful things."

Avalina thought silently to herself for a moment before speaking again.

"Could you sit down there?" She asked, pointing to the piano bench.

"Why?" The Horned King questioned, looking over at her.

"I want to test your theory."

The Horned King looked like he was about to refuse, but Avalina spoke quickly.

"Would you at least try? That way we'll know for certain."

"There is no point in this," the Horned King dredged out, his voice echoing off the walls.

"There might be, it could just be hiding," Avalina told him, smiling hopefully.

"Could you please sit down?"

The Horned King looked at her, then at the bench, and grudgingly did as she said.

"Child, you are wasting your time," he rumbled.

"This is pointless."

"Don't say that yet!" Avalina said, picking up a light seven-foot pole that was just leaning against the wall. She had a feeling one of the Invisibles had put it there.

Going over behind him, she lightly pointed to a key.

"Press that."

The Horned King sighed, but did as she said.

She felt his attitude change as drastically as the sea. At the sound of the note ringing through the air, he stiffened, staring down at the key, where his first finger lightly rested.

Grinning, Avalina pointed to another.

"That one."

The Horned King hit that too, and it gonged through the air like a bell.

Nearly dancing in delight, Avalina pointed to another. And another. And another, nearly laughing at the Horned King's facial expressions each time he hit a note. She could feel that heaviness around him lift, which lightened her own heart as well.

When the song had ended, Avalina couldn't hold it back anymore.

"You just played a song!" She cried joyfully, bouncing on her feet.

"You just played a song! You just made music!"

The Horned King sat frozen at the bench, staring down at his hands like he couldn't believe what had just happened.

"I. . .I don't understand," he said in his monotone voice, sounding so moved that Avalina nearly cried.

"You don't have to!" Avalina told him, grinning from ear to ear when he looked up at her.

"That's the beauty of music! You don't have to understand it all the time."

After a long moment, the Horned King asked, "What was that? It sounded vaguely familiar."

Avalina snickered faintly, making him look at her rather suspiciously.

"You don't remember?"

"No," he said, feeling a bit apprehensive as he looked at her mirthful expression.

Taking the pole, Avalina began to tap the notes out again, and when it failed to register, she added a line.

"Yankee Doodle went to town, riding on a pony. . ."

The Horned King's facial expression changed from wary to thunderous, and he glared at her quite hard, not pleased in the slightest.

Avalina cringed at this, before slowly backing away as he rose from the bench.

"I'm sorry!" She gasped, half out of fear and half out of mirth, as he began to advance on her.

"It was the simplest one I knew!"

When Avalina's back hit the wall, she suddenly realized it wasn't funny anymore.

He glared at her very hard, but stayed his distance as his aura brushed against her face, and she stared at him fearfully, her heart thudding wildly.

After a moment, his features relaxed, and he gave a dark chuckle that made Avalina's hair stand up.

"Well played," he rumbled to her, looking less and less angry.

"But you will pay for that, you know."

Avalina shivered faintly, wondering what his idea of payback was, and stared at him warily.

"You're. . .not angry?" She nearly whimpered, causing him to look up at her with an almost startled expression.

"Not anymore. You do not have to constantly think the worst of me, child," he dredged out, sounding faintly irritated.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, looking down at the floor.

He dismissed her apology with a faint twitch of his fingers.

"It is nothing. I should not expect you to not be frightened in my presence."

After a moment, she dared to speak again.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"You. . .you said that a. . ."

Avalina bit the word off and remodeled her sentence.

"You said that someone like yourself couldn't make music, but. . .you did, just now. Does that mean that maybe. . ."

The Horned King faintly twitched a brow ridge.

"Maybe what?"

Avalina hurried through the rest.

"That. . .maybe you're not quite a. . .a. . ."

The last word came out as almost a whisper.

"Monster?"

The Horned King lowered his head slightly.

"If I could, perhaps I would feel gratitude at your words, but I cannot. I will always be a monster, for I have no heart."

Awkwardly, Avalina struggled with the uncomfortable silence, realizing he was right, before gesturing faintly to the piano.

"Would you like me to teach you?"

The Horned King looked conflicted for a moment, before she added, "No more of that song, I promise."

"You had better not," he growled faintly, although there was the tiniest hint of a smirk on his face.

"That is an abomination that should not exist."

Avalina laughed softly, her fear dissipating rather quickly as she relaxed again.

"So, would you like to?" She asked, gesturing faintly to the piano.

The Horned King gave a faint nod.

"Yes."

Avalina grinned happily.

"Ok then! Sit back down and we'll start! By the way, I've been wondering, what would you like me to call you?'

"Call me?" The Horned King asked as he gracefully sat at the bench.

"Yes. Do you have a name?"

The lich looked back at her.

"I am the Horned King."

"I know, but that's a title, not a name. Do you have a real name?"

After a moment, the Horned King answered.

"If I did at one time, I no longer remember it."

"Do you have preferences?" She asked shyly.

He shook his head slowly.

"Not in particular. Names are rather pointless to me."

"Would you mind if I thought of something?"

The Horned King looked faintly amused.

"Must you name everything?"

She giggled slightly.

"Only when they're not already named. Now, press that one!"

Avalina indicated, pointing to a key with her pole.

Neither spoke for a long while, content to simply let the music fill the silence.

* * *

The Horned King could not believe what had just happened. He had actually made music. That was. . .completely unfathomable. No words could describe it, this feeling that exploded inside his chest when the notes sang into the air.

He had never imagined that such a creature like himself would be able to do something like that. It was a slap in the face to everything he had previously believed.

He had played a song. A thoroughly detestable one, but a song nonetheless. He had never thought about making music himself, but now. . .he wondered if Avalina felt like this every time she played. It was. . .rather nice.

He had not meant to frighten the girl that much, but his irritation had gotten the better of him for a moment. It was then, for the first time in several weeks, that he remembered exactly who he was, what he was, and that was something that would never go away. No one would ever be able to forget, or forgive, the things he had done.

For as he had told her, try as he might, he could never be anything but a monster.

The memory was sobering.

But that had been well played. He smirked slightly in remembrance at Avalina's laughter.

Well played, indeed.

* * *

"...SHE GOT HIM TO PLAY MUSIC!"

"...THIS IS SO AMAZING!"

'WHOOOO-HOOOOO!"

"YEAH!"

The Invisibles shouts of victory echoed off the walls so loudly they could hardly hear each other. They had all wisely relocated to the far side of the castle where no one could hear them, and they were belting it out for all they were worth.

"I nearly died when Avalina made ol' Bramble-Britches play our song! Bahahahah!"

"Isn't it just so beautiful!" Another howled in laughter.

"First we got Dusty to do it, and now him! My day is complete!"

"And he didn't even hurt Avalina for it! Now THAT is progress if I ever saw any. He's taking jokes now!"

"And petting the horse!"

"And reading to her!"

"It's a dream come true!"

"YEEE-HAWW!"

"I COULD SCREAM TO THE WORLD, MY EXCITEMENT!"

"I think you are screaming," the first Invisible said dryly.

"BUT NOT TO THE WORLD!" The other howled back.

"I can hardly believe it," the fourth Invisible said in awe.

"Avalina's just. . .amazing. How does she do it?"

"I don't know," the first Invisible said.

"But when you have a name like that, you can't *not* expect this kind of change from everyone you're around!" The third happily commented.

"Absolutely!" The second laughed.

"It's pretty obvious the master cares for her a little bit, or he would never act this way," the fourth noted.

"He's still in denial," the third snickered. "Do you think we should make him send her a Valentine?"

The second cackled madly at the notion.

"That would be a facial expression I would *never* forget!"

"Why don't we do that?"

"Because it could hurt Avalina's feelings pretty bad if it goes wrong, and we can't risk that. She's lost most of her fear of him for the most part, and it needs to stay that way," the first Invisible said tartly.

"Agreed," the other three admitted.

"But," the second one said thoughtfully, "Nobody would get their feelings hurt if we were to trash his chambers again."

"No!" The first Invisible shouted, "I FORBID YOU TO-!"

The door slammed shut.

"Those two will be the death of me," the first groaned painfully.

"Look on the bright side," the fourth said, "At least it won't be Creeper and his mead!"


	95. Chapter 95

Chapter 95

The Horned King stood well outside the drawbridge, watching the rapidly approaching dust cloud through his spyglass.

Avalina and the goblin had constantly changed racing courses, since neither of them wanted their mounts to get spoiled by racing to the courtyard all the time.

Today it was a sideways track across the Horned King's land in front of the castle, and they had set up a stake for the finish line.

This was not the first time Avalina had invited him to watch from the ground. Mitternacht had met the Horned King many more times after the stone incident, and after the lich had finally began brushing him now and then at Avalina's urging, the horse now treated him as casually as he did the gwythaint and goblin.

But this was the first time the Horned King had finally accepted Avalina's offer.

He could hear the hoofbeats now, see them racing closer, like a streak of black lightning in the pale landscape.

They were coming up fast. . .he lowered his spyglass when they were only a few hundred yards from him.

He could hear the horse pumping hard. . .the gwythaint's wingflaps above them were so strong they scattered the mild covering of fall leaves on the ground below them.

They blew past him so hard he felt the dirt particles batter his robe, and he had to turn away as the dust cleared. He had seen the fire in the horse's eyes, reflected only by his rider's.

He heard Avalina laughing, saw the horse dancing excitedly as they pulled up to an easy stop, the gwythaint lighting gracefully on the ground by them.

Trotting Mitternacht up, Avalina called happily, "Did you like it?"

The Horned King gave a brief nod, saying nothing about how he had felt his very blood jump when the horse had swept past him.

"It was not un-enjoyable."

Avalina lightly lit down from the horse's back a few feet from him and rubbed the animal's neck.

"Good job, boy!"

Mitternacht snorted and tossed his head in agreement.

"It must feel. . .exhilarating," the Horned King said in his gravelly voice.

"Oh, it is!" Avalina gasped, and he noticed she was panting herself.

"No words in the world can describe it completely."

"I can only imagine."

Mitternacht came closer to him, his neck and head stretched out. He stopped at the point where the Horned King's aura became the worst and snorted through his nose, fixing the lich with intelligent eyes.

The Horned King did not move, and stood there as the horse regarded him with deep interest.

"Sire, have you ever ridden anything?" Avalina asked timidly.

The Horned King was silent for a moment, the still only being broken by Mitternacht's soft rumble in his chest.

"If I ever did, then I cannot remember it."

Avalina watched the two of them for a moment more, before going up to the horse and whispering something in his ear, perhaps in answer to the noise the animal had made earlier.

Mitternacht gave a sound in reply that was so soft the Horned King barely heard it, before Avalina turned back to him.

"Would you like to?"

The Horned King stared for a moment, before catching on.

"No."

"He won't mind."

The Horned King looked at her like she had lost her mind.

"He would truly go mad then, child, and then he would have to be destroyed. I cannot believe you would even ask that of him."

"I didn't ask him," Avalina said, looking hurt, "He asked me."

The Horned King's brow ridge twitched up in faint skepticism, but he could sense no lies in her face.

"Are you trying to get one or more of us killed? You told me yourself what happened to the king of Prydain, and also to your brother when he tried to ride without you."

"No. I just thought you might like to ride him, that's all," Avalina explained.

"Mitternacht didn't give King Gwydion or Arran permission to ride, but he just told me that if you want to, then you may."

The Horned King stared at her for a long moment, then back at the horse, who was still eyeing him thoughtfully.

"Please?" Avalina said softly. "He won't hurt you. I promise. He told me so."

The Horned King only looked at her and the horse with a thoroughly disbelieving look.

"I do not think. . ." He began.

"Think what?" Avalina asked softly.

"It's a good idea? That I'm wrong? You told me I had a way with horses, so why don't you believe me?"

"I do believe you," the Horned King answered, a bit uncomfortably.

"But even assuming that he will be quiet, the idea of jostling up and down does not appeal to me."

Avalina was quiet for a moment, before she softly asked, "Sir?"

The Horned King looked at her.

"It's actually very smooth. Some horses aren't, but Mitternacht is. You. . .may not know anything about riding an animal of any type, but that won't matter. You don't have to worry."

"I am not worried," the Horned King replied.

"Simply contemplating."

Avalina glanced up at the horse, then back to the lich.

"He knows."

The Horned King looked back at the horse, who was eyeing him calmly, almost challengingly, as if saying, "Well, what will it be, undead? Which choice will you make?"

Mitternacht snorted softly and twitched his ears, eyes never leaving the lich.

"Please?" Avalina said softly, choosing her words carefully.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's a feeling unlike anything else in the world. You can trust me."

The Horned King looked down at Avalina, then to the horse and back again, taking in her almost pleading look, and the waiting stare of the horse, weighing his options.

He could refuse and be done with the whole thing. This was a foolish idea and he should have banished it from her mind the moment it came up, but the more she talked about it the more he wondered what it was like to ride the storm like Avalina did, to race along so fast. . .

Or he could accept Avalina's offer and the challenge the horse had clearly dealt him and trust Avalina's word that the animal would not act up. The Horned King had no fear of being thrown, but it would be most undignified and once he ever started he knew he would never be able to walk away from it if the horse really did toss him off. The Horned King never backed down from anything.

He nudged away a faint but vaguely annoying image of Avalina's hurt expression should he refuse to ride. She had offered the chance to him, whether he took it or not was another matter.

After several moments, his answer was so soft it could hardly be heard.

"Very well."

Avalina smiled happily and went to the horse's head.

"Ok, come here!"

She silently prayed this would work as the Horned King's aura drifted over her and made it harder for her to breathe. Mitternacht had never given her a false signal before, and she knew she couldn't have misinterpreted what he told her. It was like he knew that she wanted the Horned King to experience the exhilarating freedom she felt every day. The horse could sense his heavy feelings just as easily as Avalina could, if not more so.

Horses were perceptive like that.

Mitternacht stood calmly when the Horned King laid a hand on his neck, though he turned briefly around to glance at the lich, the white showing faintly around his eye. After a moment, however, he returned his attention to Avalina at his head.

The Horned King placed a hand on the cantle and the other on the horn, looking back at Avalina and the horse.

Mitternacht stood quietly, waiting, but kept his ears back however, no doubt to pay attention to what was going on at his side.

After watching Mitternacht a moment and saying something indecipherable to him, Avalina nodded at the lich in a go-ahead.

The Horned King cautiously slid his left foot into the stirrup and watched the horse's ears, which stayed back but never moved.

After another moment or two, he rose from the ground and placed himself in the saddle with such a smooth, graceful movement it took Avalina's already struggling breath away. She stared up at him in surprise as he settled himself into the saddle carefully, his unease evident.

He looked down at her, shaking her from her thoughts and back to reality.

"See?" She said squeakily, realizing it wasn't quite so hard to breathe as she remembered from last time, "It's not so bad, is it?"

The Horned King shot her a withering look.

"We will see."

Avalina noticed his hands were gripping the horn and swell of the saddle-front so tightly his skin was a lighter green than usual.

_'He's worried,'_ she realized, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing better than to say anything here.

_'Or very uneasy.'_

Lightly keeping a hand on her horse's muzzle, she told the Horned King, "Now, rub his neck and talk to him. Tell him he's a good boy."

The lich ran his hand across the right side of the horse's neck, and Avalina couldn't help but grin when she saw him pulling all the unruly locks over to the left side where the other half of Mitternacht's mane was.

"Good boy," the Horned King dredged out with an effort.

The horse acknowledged his touch by turning his head slightly sideways to look at him with one glossy eye before turning back around to the girl.

Taking Mitternacht's bridle, Avalina instructed, "Now, press your heels lightly against his sides and say, "Walk on."

The Horned King slowly did as she said, and Mitternacht shifted, one ear back and one cocked forward to listen to Avalina.

"Come on boy," she murmured, tugging lightly on his bridle and beginning to lead him away, "That's a way."

The horse followed her immediately, one ear back, paying attention to his rider, as Avalina was doing.

The Horned King was not prepared to feel the horse walking beneath him and gripped the front of the saddle tighter, and Avalina noticed how pale his hands were around the joints.

It was unlike anything he had ever felt.

The rolling shift of the horse's back, shoulder and hindquarter muscles as he placed one foot in front of the other was so foreign to the lich, he constantly felt he was going to fall off, which did not help his unease much.

Gripping the horn and swell of the saddle as tightly as he could, every bit of him was tense as Avalina slowly led the horse out across the ground.

"You don't have to grip the saddle so hard," she softly tried to reassure him.

"You're not going to fall off, I promise."

The Horned King kept his fangs gritted to prevent from saying something cutting and only nodded. He hated being in a situation he couldn't control, and this was one of them.

He couldn't control this horse, should he take the urge to go cavorting like the lich had seen the animal do with Avalina sometimes. How had she talked him into this again? He looked down at her and caught a glimpse of her smiling up at him before she turned back to walk alongside the horse's head, her hair blowing out behind her slightly in the breeze and mingling faintly with Mitternacht's mane.

_'That's how,'_ a little voice told him inside his head. He shut it out and concentrated on staying on the horse, unprepared for the faintly warm feeling he got inside his chest at the thought.

_'She smiled at me.'_

Slowly, he felt himself relax, a little bit at a time, his body movements molding to the horse's easy, rolling gait. Avalina had been right. He was a smooth horse to ride. He had expected it to be rough and ungainly, the way it looked on a lot of horses, but this was...dare he say it? Pleasant.

Mitternacht felt the change in the rider and relaxed a little himself, flicking that one ear forward to match the other one, watching Avalina, his head dipping slightly with his steps, before moving it back.

Avalina did not look back, but the way the horse had relaxed a little told her the Horned King was feeling better, and she smiled in relief.

She noticed he never touched the reins, which she was grateful for. She hadn't told him not to, but she was glad he had known better. Mitternacht's behavior with other riders had possibly convinced him.

Slowly, she led the horse in a circle, not bothering to hold his bridle. He followed her like a dog at her side.

Looking back at the Horned King, she saw him sitting in a more relaxed posture than before, his hands not gripping the leather quite so tightly, sitting back in the saddle like someone who had ridden many times before. The tension he was under was still obvious, however.

"I believe that is enough," the Horned King finally dredged out after several more minutes of walking. The tone in his voice made Avalina whoa the horse and turn back.

He slowly dismounted, standing by the horse for several moments, one hand on the saddle, and Avalina realized something was not right.

"Are you alright?" She asked him in concern, seeing how his eyes...or, eye sockets, rather...were a bit larger than normal, and he hadn't let go of the horn just yet.

He turned back to her and seemed to compose himself, removing his hand from the saddle as he did so.

"Yes," he answered her, "Your concern is needless."

"How'd it feel?" She asked, hearing nothing sharp or cold in his tone.

"It is as you described. It feels like nothing else in the world."

Avalina grinned happily as the lich backed a few feet away from them, clearing the air around her of his aura.

"So, you liked it?" She asked, scratching the horse's neck.

The Horned King nodded faintly in response, which made Avalina's grin grow wider and dance slightly on her feet.

"I'm so happy!"

Together, the three of them headed back to the castle, the lich and the girl talking lightly, the horse walking steadily beside her.

* * *

**First off, I apologize for the insanely long wait. I didn't mean to take this long to update. First it was real life, then it was a lack of inspiration to write, then it was real life again, and then it was writer's block. -_- Not a pleasant combo. Anyhow, the point is, I'm back on track and so is this story, and I hope to be updating constantly again as soon as possible. Thank you all for sticking with me, if you still are XD. I also got a new reader during this long absence, so that's a good thing XD. I won't call you out or anything, but thank you for following my story! It really does me a whole lot of good:)**

**lawson out! And please, if you don't mind, leave a review! XD I hate it when nobody reviews.**


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